Truce
by MarigoldMusings
Summary: Started as a oneshot but expanded into a series focusing on the gaps between Season 16 and early 17 #Tuckson episodes.
1. Chapter 1

_This ficlet takes place after S16 Pornstar's Requiem (between Producer's Backend and Padre Sandunguero). I'm taking Tucker's "Sergeant, we gotta stop meetin' like this" from Padre as a clue that OMB and IABET had previously met for drinks. Let's see what may have happened before that ridiculously hot 47 seconds in the bar when Tucker suggested bourbon and I was all, like, OMFG, NO! HE'S THE ENEMY! But then OMB was like, ok (cue eyebrow), and then that's when I started to be jealous of her and I still am to this day. #Tuckson_

…..

Olivia ended the call from Carisi and turned to the tear-streaked face of Lisa Barnes. The Sergeant sat down and informed her that Evie was, indeed, in New England, but she hadn't gone to her favorite vacation spot. She fled Hudson University and was apparently moving forward with her career as Roxxxane DeMay. Mrs. Barnes begged Olivia to have the detectives bring Evie back to New York, but Benson shook her head.

"Evie's eighteen," she explained softly, "Legally, she can make her own decisions."

"What do I do now?" The devastated mother asked.

Olivia took one of her hands, "Go home. Take care of your husband. Keep calling her. Eventually, she may come around."

Lisa blinked back more tears, gathered her things, and walked slowly out of the squad room. Fin eyed her until she was in the elevator and then poked his head in Olivia's office.

"Chief Dodds calm down?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "He warned me about confusing what he perceives as my political agenda with my job as a cop."

Fin scoffed, "He should look in the mirror. You meanta tell me _he_ doesn't have an _agenda_?"

"Oh he does," Olivia said assuredly, "But we don't get to question it."

Fin screwed up his face, acknowledging the chain of command. But, there was a finality to the whole thing. Without Evie, Barba's promise to appeal Judge Briggs' ruling held no weight. There was nothing else SVU could do. "Rollins and Carisi back yet?"

"No, they'll be a few hours at least."

"Alright, well, I'll see you tomorrow unless we get a call."

"Have a good night, Fin."

With her index finger, Olivia traced the outline of the picture frame on her desk and smiled at Noah's beaming image. After his most recent health scare and the discovery of the serious injuries he'd endured in foster care, he was finally feeling better and back to normal. Olivia sat back in her chair, still keeping her eyes on the photograph. The pressure of commanding a unit and being a single mother weighed on her daily. Some days it was all she could do to keep her head above water. Chief Dodds' unrealistic expectations and unfair criticism didn't help matters.

With the exception of Carisi, she wasn't sure her squad respected or recognized her authority. So far, she had managed to successfully juggle everything, but she was hanging on by a thread. Noah's caseworker, Ms. Jackson, was increasingly critical of Benson's capability to care for him, and her lack of understanding both terrified and angered Olivia. Noah had never been loved or cared for in his life until she took custody of him. Now, he was safe, well-fed, and getting the medical attention he had been deprived of during his early months. However, Ms. Jackson didn't seem satisfied unless Benson was by his side every hour of every day. Olivia tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore the intense scrutiny and focus solely on Noah's well-being, but Ms. Jackson's words echoed in her head and bred feelings of inadequacy and incompetence.

Olivia's phone pinged. It was Lucy, reporting that Noah was well and fast asleep. The babysitter didn't typically provide mundane updates like this one, but since he'd been discharged from the hospital, Olivia requested them. She told Lucy she would be home in an hour.

…

Five blocks away from her apartment, tucked between a nail salon and an electronics store, was one of New York's less-frequented cop bars. It was popular with veteran NYPD officers, and the owner knew most patrons by name. Olivia ducked in, wanting a quick respite before she reentered real life. To her relief, it was busy enough for her to have a drink inconspicuously, and she didn't recognize anyone there.

The owner was tending bar, and, although he didn't know Olivia's name, he recognized her and offered a warm greeting. She ordered wine, he apologized for the lack of options, and Olivia sipped slowly as she processed the past few days.

Her discontent existed on several levels. Hudson University's decision to expel Evie and do nothing to discipline her attackers infuriated her. The plain fact that this poor girl felt compelled to make pornography to pay her college tuition was rooted in systematic failure. Evie's parents' lack of support was tragic. Judge Briggs' decision and vicious comments directed toward her in open court functioned as her death blow. Evie was all alone in the world.

Olivia took a long drink.

All alone in the world.

 _Sounds familiar._

She quickly finished the first glass and ordered a second, mentally berating herself for being a bad mother and then immediately making excuses. Noah was sound asleep and well; it was perfectly ok for her to take an hour for herself to unwind, to disappear for a little while. All parents did this…right?

Her disappearing act didn't last long.

"Serrrr- _geant_ Benson."

Olivia hadn't been paying attention to who was coming and going through the squeaky door, but she recognized all too well the voice of the person who took the stool next to hers. Gravelly. Accusatory. Confident. Maybe a tiny bit threatening.

Tucker.

Olivia said hello in the least inviting way, remaining hunched over her drink and refusing to look him in the eye. She didn't hear Tucker order anything, but the bartender brought him something brown.

"Rough day?" He asked.

Olivia debated. Be honest or aloof?

She went with honest.

"Sort of."

"Me too."

Olivia was skeptical and muttered a sarcastic, " _Right_."

He screwed up his face, "I can't have rough days?"

"I can't imagine why you would."

Tucker sipped in silence for a minute. Alcohol clearly hadn't loosened her up at all. He was a little disappointed at the chilly reception, after all, he got Amaro reinstated for her. "Well, Sergeant, I _do_ ," he insisted, "But, enough about me. What happened?"

The compassion in his voice startled Olivia, particularly since, during their last one-on-one interaction he'd been so indifferent and dismissive when she showed him the dash cam footage proving the allegations against Nick were false. Nevertheless, Olivia replied. "Judge Briggs set aside a guilty verdict, totally without merit, and then proceeded to basically tell our vic that the rape was _her fault._ "

Tucker furrowed his brow, "That's unusual."

"Yeah," Olivia huffed, "And then _I_ got reprimanded for having a political agenda because I met with Hudson's President. That judge… _somebody_ in the city is in his head…or his pocket. There's no way an _objective_ judge could sit through that trial and make that decision."

"Barba going to appeal?"

"He said he would, but, without a cooperating victim, it's a dead end."

"Where'd she go?"

"Well, the judge shamed her in court in front of everyone, Hudson expelled her, parents basically disowned her…so she's in New Hampshire…pursuing _other_ things…"

Tucker had seen the headlines. He knew what Olivia meant.

"That's tough." He loosened his tie.

"Yeah."

"How's everything else?"

Olivia felt Tucker's eyes on her, when she turned to reply, his face was different. The rugged cheekbones were still there, but somehow the defining lines had softened. His lips were slightly apart, as if he were about to say something else, but it added a layer of innocence. There was also a certain degree of kindness, maybe even concern, in the expression. Benson had only seen that look once before—when he told her IAB accepted her version of the events surrounding the death of William Lewis and wished her good luck.

She took a deep breath. "It's good to have Amaro back and have a full squad, _thank you_ , but they sent me this new guy who's been everywhere but the Bronx…so that's my latest project." Maybe it was the wine, but she felt comfortable and at ease talking to him. She rolled her eyes and forced an incredulous smile, "I feel like…someone's making things intentionally difficult for me. I ask for a detective with experience and empathy, and they sent me a newbie who, apparently, has been… _discarded_ by three boroughs."

Ed shot her a knowing smirk, "Yeah, One PP will do that. But, you never know, he may end up fitting in. Sometimes it takes these young guys a while to find their sweet spot."

"That's optimistic." Yet another unexpected development…Tucker looking on the bright side?

He shrugged, "And if he doesn't, you can get him outta there."

"Good point."

"Your son doing ok? I, uh, meant to ask when I saw you last, but—"

Olivia sharply interjected, "You were having a _rough day_?"

Ed cringed, thinking about how rude he'd been the last time he saw her. There was no way he was going to tell her the real reason he acted the way he did. He _was_ busy, but he was also reeling just a bit from seeing Rita again. He assumed she'd relayed to Benson the details of their brief and embarrassingly unsuccessful relationship. The insolence was his go-to defense mechanism.

Ed's eyes pleaded for forgiveness, and Olivia caved, "Noah's good, thanks for asking."

"You want another round?"

Olivia shook her head, "I do, but I have to get home."

"Well, have a good night, Sergeant."

"You too." She felt like she needed to say something else since the brief conversation with her adversary hadn't exactly been the worst thing in the world. "Um, it—" She spoke too soon and got caught searching for words.

This time, he finished her sentence, "It was nice talking to you, too."

His eyelids fluttered a bit as he offered something between a smile and a smirk, and she felt blood rush to her face. It was time to get out of there. She dipped her head and darted towards the door before Tucker could see her blush.

…

 _I think I'll occupy hiatus time with more of these "fill-in-the-blanks!" It's fun to speculate and it gives me an excuse to watch #SVU (not that I needed one). I think I'll set the next one after Chicago Crossover…_

 _#Tuckson_

 _#September21_

 _#SVU_


	2. Chapter 2

_This one takes place after S16 Chicago Crossover. Ep date is early November, 2014. I was lukewarm about the ep the first time I saw it—the only two good things were Benson's mint green blouse and her badass takedown of the pedo peddler perp George Turner. I believe it was the first time Voight and Benson met in person. I think my initial problem was that it featured the Chicago cast who I wasn't very familiar with, but after the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh times, I liked it more and more. Anyway, ya'll don't care about my ramblings…here we go with Truce Part II!_

…..

Sergeant Benson shoved a forkful of her four-hour-old lunch in her mouth, chewed, and then dialed a too-familiar number. After several rings and just when she was about to hang up, a gruff voice answered.

"Tucker."

"Hey, it's Benson. Is there any chance you can stop by here? Or can I come down there? I have something that could potentially be a problem and I'd rather not put it in writing." Olivia was glad this wasn't a video call because she wasn't confident she could maintain an honest expression while uttering what amounted to a half-truth. Yes, Hank Voight roughed up their perp, but the possibility of George Turner filing a complaint or Voight's behavior leaking through someone else was low—almost zero. Troubling as it was, Olivia was searching for an excuse to see Tucker again. That friendly bar encounter lingered in the back of her mind, and she wanted to find out whether or not the détente was confined solely to that fleeting hour.

Tucker cleared his throat and played directly into her hands. "I was just on my way out, Sergeant. Drink?"

Thirty minutes later she was sitting next to him in the same exact corner of the bar they'd occupied a few weeks ago. Olivia waved off his offer of bourbon and instead ordered her usual red wine.

"Oh, c'mon," he chided her, "They have crap wine here. They actually have pretty good bourbon, at least by my standards."

"No thank you," Olivia said primly, "I'll stick with this."

Tucker shrugged and got to the point. "So who do I have to drag to IAB now?"

"As you may know, we had visitors from Chicago."

"I didn't know," He cast her a sideways glance, "I don't have a running feed of everything every NYPD squad is doing, ya know."

Olivia pretended to be baffled, "Huh. I always thought you did," she sassed.

Another stern Tucker stare faced her.

Wary about pushing the teasing too far, she described what happened with Voight. "It crossed a line. He had him by the hair, up against the wall. Nothing that would exactly leave a mark…but, I thought I'd let you know just in case something came of it."

"No bruises?"

"Well, one bruise."

"Where?"

"Left eye."

Ed screwed up his face, "I thought you said he didn't punch him?"

"Voight didn't. I did."

" _What_?" Tucker couldn't believe she would turn herself in so easily; he also couldn't picture her beating up a perp in custody. That was more up Stabler's alley.

Olivia's mouth formed a crooked, sly smile, "He came at me with a baton when we cornered him. It was a good takedown, Lieutenant, trust me."

Tucker was impressed and slightly disappointed he missed the action.

"Anyway, that's what happened—a slap, he tossed him around, I threatened to arrest Voight…and Turner cooperated." Olivia sighed, "Just like the old days."

Ed took a sip and swallowed hard. The implicit reference to Stabler momentarily jarred him from his convivial mood. He set his jaw, and the look on his face suggested he could very well be done speaking for the evening.

Olivia hunched forward and dipped her head to make eye contact.

"I think you know how I feel about certain partners of yours and the use of excessive force." It had been a long time since the contemptable Tucker made an appearance in front of Olivia. Tension accumulated between them as they separately flashed back to the times Tucker, sometimes overzealously, targeted SVU. If this was what she wanted to talk about, he had no defense other than to say he was doing his job.

"Well," Olivia said conclusively, "I suppose there's no need to dwell on the past."

Ed, relieved she'd bailed them out of the awkward silence, let out a long sustained breath. "Yeah, that's probably not helpful." Ed hated Elliot Stabler. Not only was he reckless and cursed with an intractable temper, but he also thought he was beyond the reach of the law and IAB. In Ed's opinion, Stabler was flirting with both personal and professional disaster before he wisely opted to retire. Tucker wondered whether or not he and Olivia maintained contact—he had a sense they didn't, but that was probably more wishful thinking than a sound prediction.

"Anyway, how's the new guy?" Ed asked.

Olivia tried to be diplomatic. "He's…coming around."

"Any Thanksgiving plans?"

"Noah and I are having dinner with Nick's family. You?"

"My kids won't be here, but I'll be in Riverdale with my mother."

The statement sounded strange coming from Tucker, but Olivia tried to take it in stride. "Kids?"

She'd been in his office before, most recently because of Rollins' wayward sister, and noticed a photo of a girl in a cap and gown, but she'd never had occasion to ask about it, or remember it, until now.

"Yeah, one just graduated from Penn. The older one's a teacher and is going off to someplace warm—I think the Dominican Republic? I could be wrong." He took another sip and then admitted ruefully, "I forget what she told me."

Ed chewed the inside of his mouth. He was obviously annoyed with himself—he rolled his eyes and frowned, but it wasn't the IAB investigator frown. It reflected profound personal disappointment. His honesty and paternal side caused Olivia to feel an iota of affinity for him which was immensely discomfiting. It was all she could do to restrain herself from comforting him by patting his arm or his shoulder or, _gasp_ , hug him.

No, no, that wasn't happening tonight. Or ever.

She shifted them back to safer small talk, "It will be nice for her to go someplace warm."

"Yeah. One of these days _I'll_ take a vacation."

"When was your last one?"

Ed stared at the ceiling as he rifled through his memory. "A couple years ago. You?"

"Almost the same."

"Where'd you go?"

"Bahamas."

"We went to Ireland," Ed said, "Took my oldest daughter there for her college graduation. I still owe the younger one a trip."

"That was nice of you. I haven't been overseas since college."

"Where'd you go to school?"

"Siena."

"I went straight to the academy, then it took me six years to get my degree from John Jay," he sounded a little irritated at his decision making. "I didn't get a trip when I finished," he added with a smirk.

"Me neither."

They shared a knowing laugh, acknowledging, regretfully, how the job consumed their lives.

They _shared_ a _laugh_.

Had he been any other person on the planet, she may have playfully nudged him with her shoulder. Instead, she downed the rest of her wine and put a few bills on the bar.

"Going so soon?"

"Yes." She offered no further explanation. "I suppose, if Mr. Turner files a complaint, you'll hear about before I will…so, keep me posted."

"Alright. Like you said, probably a non-issue, but I appreciate not being blindsided."

Olivia grabbed her coat. One of the sleeves got caught in the slats of the barstool. She and Tucker simultaneously went to disentangle it and their hands touched ever so slightly. Olivia shivered. Tucker appeared unaffected.

"You and Noah have a good holiday," he said.

"You too."

…

At home, Olivia fed Noah and they played for a while before his bath and bedtime. A few hours later, just as she was about to call it a night, Noah started whimpering in his sleep and then erupted into full-blown sobs. She rocked him for a while, holding him tightly to her chest. She rubbed his back and whispered "shhh," as the motion and her touch soothed him.

Tucker's image crept into her thoughts. Without that steely, uncompromising attitude, he could almost pass for pleasant and… _nice_. Pessimism still reigned, though. Olivia harbored doubts about the longevity of this new and improved persona. She was sure he'd revert to his old self when and if she or her squad fell under IAB scrutiny, but maybe these moments with him could be preemptive and temper the ruthlessness of any future investigations.

Noah had fallen back asleep. In the comfort of his mother's arms his placid face oozed with contentment. Olivia hoped this year would pass quickly and without incident. She hoped she could keep Ms. Jackson at bay. Lately, balancing motherhood and SVU seemed less challenging. Maybe she was getting the hang of it. Or, maybe this was just a temporary pocket of calm before the next highly-publicized case came along.

She wondered if Ed was sitting at home right now, arrogantly smiling to himself because he had seen through her request to meet. On one hand, he was so meticulous and duty-oriented, he probably took her concerns at face value. On the other hand, her premise for meeting was borderline specious. He was savvy enough and knew _she_ was savvy enough to know George Turner, having been offered a generous plea deal, was not going to make a fuss over Voight.

Maybe it didn't matter. At any rate, she promised herself there would be no more concocting circumstances in order to see him. Lieutenant Tucker was IAB. He was dangerous. He was capable of using any little detail from their conversations against her or her detectives in the future.

She lifted Noah and gently placed him back in his crib. She absorbed the immediate chill invade the place where he'd been nestled against her chest.

Minutes later, alone among her pillows and blankets, she couldn't help but wonder how Tucker would've responded if she would have hugged him earlier. The idea was so absurd, she laughed out loud. However, deep down, she imagined there would be a great deal of comfort in Ed Tucker's embrace.

…

 **Next we're going to either post-Forgiving Rollins or after Padre. #Tuckson!**


	3. Chapter 3

_This one is set after_ _ **Forgiving Rollins**_ _. As I re-watch the WL years, I like Rollins more and more and the same goes for Kelli Giddish's acting. When the character first appeared she annoyed the hell out of me (and she still does sometimes, particularly when she didn't turn her sister in—that bitch got you arrested for murder and stole your entire apartment, Amanda, and then she rolled Anton FOR HIS REALLY EXPENSIVE FLUTE. Call me the worst sister in the world, but I woulda IDed her IMMEDIATELY when I saw the surveillance video…but I guess that would have seriously torpedoed the ep's plot). I was glad Forgiving Rollins gave us some insight as to yet another reason she's such a hot mess (in a lovable way, because her heart is usually in the right place). I guess the only downside, other than the rape of Detective Taymor and Patton's previous sexual assaults, is that, to me, the sexy Harry Hamlin is forever tainted…_

 _So here we go…#Tuckson circling one another with a little more fervor…just a little!_

…..

Tucker walked briskly through the squad room and directly into Sergeant Benson's office. The SVU detectives gaped at him and followed his path with their eyes.

"What's the rat squad want now?" Fin muttered.

"Who's that?" Carisi asked.

Amaro, Rollins, and Fin explained who Tucker was and why he was enemy number one.

"I guess we'll find out soon," Rollins muttered.

Lieutenant Tucker slammed Benson's door. Startled, her head snapped up.

"Tucker," she said breathlessly, peering at him through her glasses.

"Sergeant, is there a place we can talk privately?"

Olivia held out her arms, "The office isn't private enough?"

He spun around. All blinds were drawn except for the set hanging on the door. He fixed that immediately and, in what seemed like one gigantic step, came within inches of her. He removed her glasses, tossed them on the desk, and pulled her up by the arms. Almost violently, he cupped the back of her head, pressed his lips to hers, and practically shoved his tongue down her throat. He spun her around and backed her to the sofa.

"Tucker, the door."

"It's locked."

"No, it's not."

"Benson, shut up, will ya? I got it covered." He flung his jacket to the floor and loosened his tie before falling on top of her.

The fuzzy rustling and waking noises of Noah transmitted into Olivia's bedroom via the iPad and she stirred, slowly waking up, reluctant to come out of the dream. In the process, she relaxed her grip on the corner of the pillow. That got a bit too real. She stretched, turned off the alarm on her phone (Noah usually rendered it moot), and went to get her son. With Rollins on vacation and Carisi still learning the ropes, SVU was yet again short-staffed and the Sergeant had been both working cases and handling her administrative responsibilities. Olivia needed to go in early to catch up before the next crisis hit.

….

The text message that arrived on Olivia's phone later that day induced an annoyed groan from Sergeant Benson. Chief Dodds was summoning her to a meeting at One PP to _address the Atlanta issue and the status of Detective Rollins._

"Great," Olivia muttered to herself while she keyed in her reply. "What a perfect way to end the day." She closed her computer and shoved it in her bag. "Fin?"

Carisi bounded in her office, "He went out to grab some food. Whatcha need, Sarge?"

Olivia tried not to glare at the overeager detective. "I have go downtown and then I'm going home. Call me if something comes up."

"Got it. We'll hold down the fort. No worries. I—"

Olivia closed her eyes and held up a palm. "Carisi…"

Chastened, he nodded, "Ok, Sarge. See you later."

When Olivia arrived at NYPD's headquarters she was directed to the police commissioner's office where Chief Dodds and the Commissioner were shooting the breeze about golf and vacation homes. She took a seat in the corner.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," Dodds said, "We're just waiting for IAB and the Deputy Commissioner. How's everything down at the squad?"

Olivia ignored the question. "IAB?"

"We need to have a consensus on Rollins," Dodds explained evasively.

Olivia knew she was expected to wait, but she raised her eyebrows, "A consensus? Why? Because her former boss committed a rape here in New York?"

The Commissioner cleared his throat, "And we need to make sure she didn't compromise the investigation."

 _Why did it matter now?_ Benson tried to hide her eye roll by turning towards the hallway and ended up making the face at Tucker who entered with Hank Abraham trailing behind him.

"Hello Gentlemen," Abraham bellowed pompously and nodded towards the lone female in the room, "And Sergeant Benson."

Olivia greeted him with a nod and a blank stare.

Tucker shook hands with the men, saving Olivia for last. He did not usually shake hands in instances like this, but he wanted the opportunity to touch Olivia. Fortunately for him, the men didn't question this uncharacteristic gesture.

"Nice to see you, Sergeant," He muttered in his best IAB voice so as to not arouse suspicion.

Olivia took his hand and Ed gripped it tightly. Did she hold on for an extra second? Her handshake was firm and her skin felt so soft. He couldn't help but think about what other, usually-covered-up parts of her skin felt like.

Tucker took a seat across from her. Dodds explained the plea deal and Abraham assured everyone in the room that he was in front of the story and the NYPD would get no negative press. In fact, their astute handling of the investigation would be effective when compared to the vile actions of the Atlanta chief. "We are putting ourselves on the moral pedestal," Abraham proudly proclaimed.

Chief Dodds shifted the conversation to Rollins.

"Do we think she is in any way connected to this other than the fact she was with Atlanta PD before New York?"

Tucker answered first, "Nothing points to that."

Olivia shifted in her chair. Rollins hadn't testified about her abuse in open court, so she wanted to make sure Amanda's privacy was protected. "Rollins and her former boss had a, ah, combative relationship. But the investigation wasn't compromised. She didn't work the case solo. In fact, I took the victim's statement myself."

Abraham screwed up his face, "This is twice now her Atlanta ties have complicated a case."

Olivia widened her eyes as Tucker defended the embattled detective, "They're two separate cases, and this one, other than Patton being her former boss, really had nothing to do with her."

Nobody objected to Tucker's assessment. The Commissioner and Dodds started talking about tangential matters, and, sensing her presence there was no longer needed, Olivia got up to leave. Everyone but Tucker gave her an absent-minded goodbye.

"See ya, Sergeant," he said cordially.

"Have a good night," Benson said and walked briskly from the office, slightly irritated that she had been asked to sit in on such a pointless meeting.

She was waiting for the elevator when she heard footsteps behind her. There was no need to turn around; she knew it was him.

"This is the slowest elevator in the city," he remarked.

"Before they renovated our precinct, we had that claim to fame I'm sure."

"Yeah, that one made me nervous."

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia shot him a quizzical glance. Tucker didn't seem like the type of person who would be nervous about anything, certainly not an elevator. They both occupied the sudden silence by checking their phones. Olivia flipped through old emails because, the one time she really wanted work to interrupt her, of course, there was nothing new to read. As she stared at the screen, she worried about the elevator ride and hoped they would have company. She didn't know how she felt about being alone with Tucker in the enclosed space…especially after the dream. He was standing slightly behind her, so it was challenging to sneak another glance without him noticing. Under the guise of stowing her phone in her bag, she turned to the side. He was still looking at his phone, a serious expression on his face.

Finally, the ding. The doors opened. To Olivia's horror, there was nobody in the car. It was just her and Tucker.

They stood in opposite corners.

"Thanks for backing up Rollins," Olivia said.

Tucker shrugged, "Those Georgia people really make her life miserable."

"Yeah, they do."

He took a step toward her. "There's something you didn't tell them, isn't there?"

Olivia tried not to look surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Your face," he replied, "When you said _combative_ , it looked like you meant something else." His voice, though still deep and raspy, did not have the IAB edge to it. This wasn't an interrogation; he genuinely wanted to know what was going on. He wanted an end to the lingering shreds of hostility between them, so, for good measure, he added, "Between us."

Olivia looked at him skeptically. "Between us?"

"Yeah."

Dilemma. Why was he all of a sudden so nice? Her skepticism wasn't as intense as it had been when he tried to get her to lie about how William Lewis died, but it was close. She was tempted to be straightforward and ask if he was setting her up or fishing for information about a SVU-related complaint he had on his desk. Opting for the more diplomatic route, she gave him a watered-down version of Rollins' situation. "One of the reasons why she left Atlanta was because of Patton, he, uh, has a history of promoting young, attractive detectives, and then, _expecting_ something in return."

Tucker realized she was flirting with breaching confidentiality, so he didn't push for more information. He could read between the lines.

Before they headed outside, Olivia wrapped her scarf around her neck, put on a beanie cap, and tightened the belt on her coat. Ed thought she looked even more attractive all bundled up. Outside, the wicked January wind whipped discarded paper in the air and it hovered inches above the sidewalk as if it were being batted around by invisible hands.

Ed thought about asking her to grab a drink or even a bite to eat, but he didn't want to seem too stifling or eager to go out with her. No, he'd leave it alone for today. Maybe next time. Or, perhaps, _she_ would ask him.

They were parked in opposite directions, so they parted with quick goodbyes and ducked their heads to battle the elements.

…..

"Did we say we were meeting here?" He called to her as she made her way down the sidewalk towards the bar. There was a teasing glint in his eye. To his delight, Olivia grinned at him sheepishly.

"No, I don't think we did."

It was obvious that they'd both hoped the other would show up.

Tucker held the door open for her, "Well, c'mon, it's freezing."

He didn't try to force the bourbon on her, but he did give her glass of wine an odd look when it was placed in front of her. Olivia rolled her eyes and held up the glass.

"What are we toasting to?" Tucker asked.

"Suggestion?"

"How about change?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "Change?"

Suddenly, Tucker's bashful side made an appearance. He looked down at the pockmarked bar and poked the side of his mouth with his tongue. He'd crossed a line with her that he hadn't intended to cross just yet, but now that it was out there, he was obligated to explain.

"The past couple of times we've met here…it's been good to talk like normal people," he said.

"It's definitely nicer talking to you here than across the table from you with a camera recording everything." She meant this to be a joke, but Tucker seemed to take it seriously and she immediately felt bad. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Nah," he grumbled, "You're right."

She held the glass up again, "So, here's to change."

He touched his glass to hers and repeated, "To change." He took a sip and asked about Rollins again. "How's she doin?"

"She's taking some vacation time," Olivia reported, "Per my strong recommendation."

"How'd Christmas and everything go?"

Olivia folded the corners of her cocktail napkin, "It was nice, quiet, lots of toys. Noah's birthday and Christmas are only a few weeks apart, so, we have no shortage of things to play with."

"He turned one?"

"He did."

"Well, happy belated birthday to him."

Olivia smiled, "I'll relay the message. How was your holiday?"

" _Loud_."

She pictured Tucker sitting by himself in a well-worn recliner, probably in his mother's cozy, comfortable living room, observing the holiday chaos with a mixture of disdain and amusement. "Did you spend time with your kids?"

"Yeah, that part was nice. The rest of it? I don't understand how people can get so worked up over _cards_."

"Seriously? You can't?"

"It's just a game."

" _Tucker,_ I thought you would have a competitive streak in you."

He smirked, "Oh I do, but I don't scream at people."

"Gotcha."

"Whadja do for New Years?"

"I was working. It was terrible this year—call after call. I was there New Year's Eve and I don't think I got home until midnight the next night."

"Damn. Who, uh, who watches Noah when you have times like that?"

"Usually my sitter, but Amaro's mom helped me out during the holidays."

"That's nice of her."

"She's a good friend. So kind and generous."

 _Friend_. Ed wondered if maybe someday she'd say that about him. Benson caught him thinking about this and noticed the placid look on his face. "What?" She asked, smiling.

Ed concocted a weak explanation. "Nothin, I uh, was just thinking about, well, that night those assholes shot at his house. I felt really bad for him and his family. I wasn't lying when I said I woulda done something worse."

His expression and his story didn't match, but Olivia let it go. "I'm glad I was there. That could have been way worse than it was."

Ed nodded in agreement and finished his drink. "You haveta get home, or—"

"I'll stay for one more."

Tucker looked pleased and he waved the bartender over. There was no lull in the conversation while they enjoyed the second round, and they managed to only talk sparingly about the NYPD. Olivia learned he had a testy relationship with Chief Dodds who he claimed was more of a politician than a police officer, and Olivia revealed how much she missed Cragen and Munch to which Tucker responded sympathetically. "When your mentors leave," he mused, "that's really tough."

Olivia was tempted to have a third drink, but it was almost six-thirty and she knew there was almost nothing for Lucy to make for Noah's dinner. "I have to make a take-out stop and get home to Noah," she said.

"Have a good dinner," Tucker replied.

"You too." Olivia wondered if he cooked for himself. Or did he have a girlfriend? Or a wife? She assumed he was divorced. He wouldn't be meeting her like this if he was seeing someone, would he? But, then again, these were not _dates_. She had to get a little clarity on this issue, so she criticized herself for being a mediocre chef and asked him about his culinary skills.

He laughed. She actually saw his _teeth_. "I make a mean grilled cheese. And I'm good at boiling water for pasta. I can follow a recipe, but what's the point when it's just me, ya know?"

That last part made her want to hug him…again. Time to get out of there. For the second time that day, she told him to have a good night.

"Next time we'll have to go to the place on Fifty-ninth. Have you been there?"

"Cop bar?"

"Yeah, it's my favorite one."

"If that's your favorite, why'd you come here tonight?" She couldn't resist teasing him.

"I think you know the answer to that."

Now it was her turn to be shy. Her gaze drifted down to the dingy floor before she looked up and directly into his blue eyes which were dancing with amusement and maybe a bit of arrogance. There was no need to verbally respond. He gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Let's not make it two months before we do this again."

….

 _Up next—at the risk of being redundant because I think there are at least ten fics about it including one I wrote—"I think you should try the bourbon."_


	4. Chapter 4

_Padre Sandunguero, alternatively titled "Tucker buys Benson a drink and she cocks that eyebrow and something personally distressing happens with Amaro, but who the f &*% really cares, I'm gonna watch that 47 seconds of bar scene over and over again until YouTube sends me an email telling me I need to stop replaying it but I have Hulu so joke's on them and they don't send emails like that anyway."_

 _Show dialogue not mine._

 **Olivia finally tries the bourbon…And yet another take on Padre**

… **.**

"Nick," Olivia greeted her embattled detective warmly as he loped into her office. At her request, he voluntarily went down to Internal Affairs to give his statement. What both he and Olivia thought would be a lengthy meeting ended up lasting all of two minutes. Amaro didn't even sit down.

"You're back already?"

"Yeah," he replied, flabbergasted, "He told me to stay away from the case."

Olivia looked at him expectantly. There had to be more to the story.

"And then he told me that it can't look like I'm trying to protect family."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

A thought crossed her mind, "Did you talk to Draper or Tucker?"

"Tucker."

She took a deep breath, "Ok, well, do what he says. Stay out of it. Did your Dad make bail?"

"Nah, too high, but that's fine. He needs to stay there. _Think_ about—"

Olivia interrupted, "Nick, let's not talk about this, ok. Go home. See your daughter. You can take some time, if you need—"

"I don't need to take time," he snapped, "I just need this to be over." His voice lost its edge and a look of resignation crossed his face, "I'll take the weekend if that's alright. Thanks for your support, Liv."

"Of course."

….

With Rollins on vacation and Amaro taking some personal time, Olivia worked the entire day Saturday with Fin and Carisi. Two separate missing children cases took the entire day and part of the evening. Things did not look promising early on. Olivia stopped at home to see Noah before bedtime, but she reluctantly told Lucy that it could be a late night.

"No problem," she said cheerfully, "I'll just be working on my paper anyway."

"Thanks," Olivia said gratefully, "I'll keep you updated."

On her way back to the precinct she remembered that she never called Tucker about Amaro. She couldn't help but harbor suspicions about the change in his demeanor.

 _Change_.

Their toast.

A warmth filled her chest when she recalled how shy he'd been and the later look in his eyes when he said, _I think you know the answer to that_. Those eyes, they were so… _alive_ …he knew the tables turned on her with that retort, and he was so proud that her attempt to embarrass him seriously backfired.

She pulled out her phone to call him. Unlike the time before regarding Voight, this call was legitimate.

 _Right_?

Of course it was. She sent Amaro to IAB. Amaro returned with an almost unbelievable report of what occurred. As commanding officer, she was obligated to follow up.

Tucker didn't waste time with hellos, "Sergeant, can I call you back?"

"Sure."

"We're just finishing up with something. It shouldn't be too long."

"No problem."

When she arrived at the precinct, Fin and Carisi were sitting at their desks with absolutely no semblance of urgency or concern that typically accompanied missing children investigations.

"Hey guys, what's going on?"

"Both kids are home safe."

"What?"

Carisi put his feet up on the desk, "Guy who carjacked the mom with the baby was picked up in Staten Island and the other one was a big misunderstanding. Kid was at the Knicks game with his grandfather the whole time."

"Where's the carjacker?"

"On his way to the Tombs."

"And the grandfather? You interviewed him?"

Fin answered, "The parents called us when grandpa finally picked up his phone. Three nannies and two divorced parents who _do not_ get along. Carisi and I checked it out. It's all good. We sent you a text."

"I was in the middle of a call. Must've missed it. Good work."

Olivia retreated to her office to wrap up some paperwork. An hour later, Tucker called back. He apologized for the delay; he and Cole had been on the scene of an officer-involved shooting and the officer had initially agreed to talk to them right away, but upon the advice of his delegate, he changed his mind and opted to take the 48 hours.

"I want to talk to you about Amaro," Olivia said. "He—"

"Fifty-ninth and Tenth."

"What?"

"Fifty-ninth and Tenth. I'm leaving now."

….

Olivia easily found the bar and walked in, wondering how Tucker saw any difference between this bar and the other one. They looked almost exactly the same—narrow, dingy, dimly-lit, with cop paraphernalia all over the walls. It was busy and she didn't immediately see him, but he stepped out from the crowd and sauntered toward her. He was in his usual dark suit, but he'd taken off his tie and loosened his collar.

"Sergeant, we gotta stop meetin' like this."

She sidestepped the attempt at a joke. "Amaro has no interest in protecting his father, he is _not_ trying to fix this."

"Alright, so much for the small talk, but, since you're asking, I would hate to be him right now. Either he testifies against his father, which is barbaric, or he looks like he's conspiring to cover up a crime. I almost feel sorry for him."

"Wow," Olivia sassed, "You're gettin' soft in your old age."

"Maybe." They were standing in the middle of the bar, impeding traffic. Olivia looked around uncomfortably. Somebody vaguely familiar sidestepped them and put a collegial hand on Tucker's shoulder as he passed. He thought she looked like she might be in a hurry. He didn't want her to leave. Something about her teasing him was emboldening, and she radiated sexy, powerful femininity more than usual tonight. He decided to flirt a little. "So, ya gonna just stand here talking about Amaro, or can I buy you a drink?" He glanced down at her neckline before locking expectant eyes on hers.

She made a little noise. Tucker thought she was going to decline. Instead, to his relief, she asked, "How's the wine here?"

"I think you should try the bourbon." He smirked at her then led the way to the corner of the bar. "I drink mine neat. You want ice?"

"A little."

Tucker ordered the two drinks and made sure to emphasize light ice for her. The toast was more generic than last time, and Olivia winced slightly at the liquor's initial burn.

"Like it?"

"Not bad."

"Were you at the precinct tonight?"

"I was, but the cases we caught, strangely enough, abruptly resolved themselves. I thought I was going to be there all night."

"Every once in a while ya catch a break," Tucker remarked.

"Can I ask one more question about Nick?"

He smirked at her again, "One more."

"Why'd you go so easy on him yesterday?"

"I believe him." Tucker knew that answer wasn't good enough, and he saw the sentiment in her face. "He has anger issues. He's not a liar."

"Ok. Well, thank you. I know he appreciated it. And so do I."

"No thanks needed, well, there is one thing."

"What's that?"

Tucker fidgeted a bit, downed his glass, and signaled for two more. Olivia rushed to catch up and simultaneously listened for whatever it was he was hesitant to say.

"Do you think…we can get to the point where standard operating procedure isn't automatic suspicion when it comes to IAB?"

Olivia caught the veiled meaning. "You mean when it comes to _you_?"

Tucker's cheeks reddened and he hoped the dim light would hide it. "Yeah, I guess so."

He waited while she contemplated the request, swirling the last of the first bourbon around, finishing it, and then taking a sip of the fresh one. Maintaining patience was not easy for him. Olivia Benson was someone he didn't just want to be friendly with; he wanted to _know_ her, and if she concluded that there was no possible way she could see him in a different light, well, he would be seriously disappointed.

She finally spoke, but the verdict wasn't in yet. "I have a question."

 _Damn_.

"What's that?"

"I like you like this, Tucker."

 _Ok, that was good to hear_. Not a question, but good to hear.

She continued, "But what I don't understand is…what happened with you? How did you go from someone, quite frankly, I despised, to someone I look forward to meeting for drinks?"

 _She looked forward to meeting for drinks?_

The truth was complicated and could potentially open her William Lewis wounds. Wary of that dark part of her life, he answered honestly, albeit not thoroughly. "I think it's…easier this way, don't you?"

Olivia frowned slightly. That answer was not going to suffice.

He went for a second attempt. "Sergeant, I don't know if this is the place to talk about it."

Again, she comprehended the meaning hidden in his words, "It had something to do with me refusing to go along with your justifiable homicide story, right?"

"It's a combination of things, really." He couldn't tell her everything now. It was too much and the complete reason would fall into the category of coming on too strong. It _was_ a combination of things—he was envious of Cassidy, he was attracted to her, he knew he would never have a chance with her if he continued to be a mere figure of contempt, he appreciated her calling him when Amaro went after the assailants with a baseball bat, it _was_ easier this way, but mostly, after seeing that forlorn, empty look in her eyes during her post-Lewis interview, a sudden urge to care for her arose along with the latent attraction he'd had for her for years.

But the whole story would have to wait.

Still, she wasn't relenting. "What things?"

He went with the safer explanation, "When you called me that night at Amaro's, I knew you weren't going to try to cover things up, that as Sergeant, I could trust your leadership."

"That's important."

 _She really had no idea._

"Yeah, it's real important. Then, when you refused to take the easy way out…I respected that. And, it's true, I don't want to fight with you anymore. Or your squad."

" _Well_ ," the sassy, teasing tone was returning, "You _have_ lost more than you've won with us."

He forced a laugh, "Ok, Sergeant. You got me there. But…you haven't answered my original question."

Olivia had to concentrate for a second. They were drinking the bourbon quickly and she could already feel its effects. Time to slow down. His original question. Oh yes. _Do you think…we can get to the point where standard operating procedure isn't automatic suspicion when it comes to IAB?_

"I think I can get there more quickly than you expect."

He stepped closer to her so their elbows were touching. "There's a lot of history there."

"There is." She stared into her glass as if every time he'd interrogated her or one of her partners was reflected in the ice and the brown liquor. "But, there's not a lot of good that will come out of dwelling on the past." Olivia had no idea what was happening, but when she turned and saw the look of pure relief on his face, she couldn't help but smile. She admired him; he'd taken a risky step with her tonight.

"One more?"

"Sure."

"I knew you'd like it."

…..

He walked her home despite her objections. The third bourbon turned into a fourth and then a fifth, and he knew that if he was feeling tipsy she had to be there, too. Her apartment was only four blocks away and they walked most of it in silence, largely because Ed was trying to figure out whether or not he should kiss her. They had an important talk tonight but had perhaps drank a little too much. Other than the elbows, they hadn't touched. He badly wanted to feel her lips against his, but he also wanted to remember it clearly. And, anyway, she didn't exactly agree to something romantic; she said she could _get to the point where standard operating procedure isn't automatic suspicion when it comes to IAB._

Outside of her building, Olivia took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself and put on a sober front for Lucy.

"You alright?"

"I'm good," she replied. "Let's just hope Noah's caseworker isn't up there waiting for me."

Ed took her seriously, "Would she do that?"

"Who knows? I doubt it, but I wouldn't put it past her. Anyway, my sitter would have called me if she showed up."

"Right…"

"Tucker, I had a good time tonight. It was good to…get all that out in the open."

"Yeah, it was." He shoved his hands in his pockets and then took them out again, "So, you, maybe wanna do dinner sometime next week? Just someplace casual. A burger, or—"

"I'd like that."

"Great. You can pick the day."

"I'll let you know. Rollins will be back Wednesday, so maybe after that?"

"Sounds good."

Neither one of them knew how to say goodbye. They shuffled their feet, observed non-existent traffic…shivered. Ed reached out and clasped her forearm with his gloved hand. Nerves and his buzz were getting the better of him, and his head spun with indecision. He peered down at the salt-stained sidewalk and slowly lifted his eyes as he felt his window of opportunity close.

"Have a good Sunday," he rasped as he let his fingers fall. He squeezed her hand and she reciprocated, but then took a step away from him. He knew from her expression that he'd chosen the proper exit strategy. She didn't look bewildered or uncomfortable; she just smiled at him, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol and the wind and maybe, he hoped, the tiniest bit of desire and anticipation for their next goodbye.

"Bye, Tucker," she said in a voice just barely above a whisper. She fumbled in her pocket for her keys.

"Bye, Sergeant."

He waited until she was safely inside and then headed to Ninth Avenue to hail a cab.

In her building's elevator, Olivia leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and made a mental note to remind him that it was not only ok with her but preferable that he use her first name from now on.

….

 _I fear this one may not be met with rave reviews. Be nice :-)_


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm combining a little detail from Intimidation Game (my least favorite S16 ep although my brain is now enhanced with some slang I'll never use—swatting and doxed, for example) before jumping to the week after the Super Bowl (Patriots beat the Seahawks, btw, FREE BRADY). Reminder that earlier in the season the mean caseworker lady threatened to take Noah (LEAVE OMB, ALONE ALREADY, BITCH, oh, and, you suck at social working) but Judge Linden was having none of that after Olivia assured her Noah was her number one priority and then she goes to lecture a panel of suits about untested rape kits. BTW, I love Judge Linden._

 _Fast forward to Undercover Mother-Benson learns from Warner that you-know-who is Noah's "biological parent" and Barba utters one of my 5,632 favorite lines of his- "Do I want to know why you're dressed like that?" The outfit was quite madam-chic, I must say…even sweet Lucy was like, uh, what the fuck? Glad you're getting out, but, damn, Liv, you may be taking things a little too far by channeling Vivian from Pretty Woman._

 _Enjoy…that is, if you're still reading. I know there was some, uh, discontent after the last update. :-)_

…

Tucker slid the notepad into his pocket, sniffed, and told Fin he could leave. "Head back to the precinct, Detective, we'll finish this there."

Raina Punjabi, the rescued video game designer, was already on her way to the hospital. Crime scene techs snapped photos of the dead body, took measurements, and collected shell casings. Fin took one last glance at the twenty-something he'd just shot, and followed Amanda downstairs. A rattled Carisi stood listening to Benson at the opposite end of the rooftop. After a few minutes, Tucker saw her pat Carisi on the back and he took off towards the exit.

"Hey," she said, walking over to him, "Where's Fin?"

"I sent him back to the house."

"Are you headed over there now?"

"Nah. It was a good shoot. Just put him on desk duty for a few days to make it look good."

"He keeps his gun and badge?"

"Yeah. The new guy ok?"

"He's fine," Olivia replied, "Thought Fin shoulda fired sooner."

"Listen, I told Detective Tutuola I was coming to the squad, but there's no need for me to interview him. Just write it up and send it to me. Draper's waiting. Yet another pimp has accused Vice cops of shaking down his girls."

"Ok. Well, I should probably go, too."

Tucker walked alongside her. "You, uh, have a good time the other night?"

Olivia smiled, thinking of the dinner they ate together last week. "I did. Listen, I'm taking a few days off next week. Do you want to get together? I wouldn't mind going to that place again, actually."

Grateful she'd taken the initiative to ask, Ed, of course, said yes.

…

Lieutenant Tucker tossed the miniature football from one hand to the other as he sauntered down the street. He was too early, but distracting himself with Internal Affairs work proved difficult. Sometimes Ed wished he could more easily substitute his investigator persona with his actual personality. If so, instead of avoiding the issue, he would, with laser-like precision, ask Olivia for a status update. As much as he tried to read her body language and scrape through her words for underlying meanings, she remained inscrutable. During their burger and beer dinner, she talked about Noah's health scares and complained about the stubborn caseworker; however, he could tell he was receiving only bits and pieces of her thoughts. Several times she stopped midsentence, trailed off, and changed the subject as if she'd all of a sudden realized the man in front of her was not a friend but the old IAB menace. As much as he wanted to believe her when she said she could interact with him without suspicion, doubts lingered. And he didn't like the rumblings of unease that arrived whenever he thought about it.

Tucker regretted not kissing her after they'd overdone it with the bourbon, but then he second guessed the regret-she probably would be even more aloof if he'd gone through with what would have been a half-drunk sloppy smooch. He definitely didn't want her regretting their first kiss, so he ended their dinner date with another innocent hand squeeze before she hopped in a cab.

Over a week passed, and she didn't call or text. The lack of contact deflated Tucker's ego. Disappointment turned into realistic resignation—he tried his best to forge some type of friendship, but Benson apparently just wasn't comfortable with such a drastic change. At least not now. Rather than assume she was swamped with SVU investigations, he tortured himself and concluded that she just didn't like him. But then, thanks to Fin, they'd had the brief interaction on the rooftop, and she'd been so friendly and normal... _and_ she asked him out.

Ed had the football, a plastic NYPD-issue promotional item distributed in celebration of the Super Bowl, because he was meeting Noah today. Olivia's sitter was running late, and she texted Tucker two options.

 _We can meet at six, but Noah will be there until Lucy picks him up, or we can meet later_.

This was most definitely a test. If he opted for the latter, she could easily infer he wasn't interesting in seeing Noah.

No brainer.

 _I'll see you both at six_.

He arrived at the restaurant, still early, and, considering Noah, asked for a booth. He was seated near a window in the restaurant's bar area debating whether or not to hide the football and produce it as a surprise or to just lay it out on the table when Olivia and her son arrived. Ed stood up and helped her with the diaper bag.

"Do you want me to get a high chair?" He offered.

"No, he can sit with me."

Olivia struggled to remove her coat and hold Noah at the same time. Ed held out his arms. "I'll take him."

She handed her son over without thinking twice. Ed unzipped his mini parka and tossed it on top of the diaper bag. Olivia hung her coat on a nearby hook, Ed returned Noah, and she took a seat across from him.

"Lucy will be here soon," Olivia said, "She wasn't supposed to work at all this week, so I'm lucky she was available."

"Glad I'm getting a chance to meet him."

"Noah," Olivia said sweetly, her face on the side of his head, "This is Lieutenant Tucker."

Tucker produced the football, "I brought this for you, pal."

Noah eagerly took the ball into his hands and banged it on the table.

"Thanks, Tucker. Where'd you get that?"

"Super Bowl giveaways."

"Well, aren't you special over there at IAB," Olivia mused sarcastically.

The waiter came over and took their drink orders. Olivia, brow furrowed, looked at Ed, "Do you remember which beer I had last time?"

To her surprise, Tucker responded quickly. "Two-Hearted."

"I'll have one of those."

"Me too."

The waiter nodded. "Be right back."

"Didja watch the game?" Ed asked, wondering if football was something Olivia was interested in.

"No, did you?"

"Yeah, and I won twice on our board."

"Wow," Olivia replied, "Whose board?"

"IAB."

She forced a sarcastic laugh, "That's ironic."

Ed put an index finger to his lips, "Shhh."

"Well, _I_ spent part of Sunday undercover and the rest of it peeling back the layers of what is apparently a major trafficking ring."

Noah pushed the ball towards Tucker and made a noise that sounded close to _ball_. Olivia kissed his head, "Yes, sweet boy, a _ball_! Are you playing catch with Tucker?"

Ed smiled and rolled the ball back. "Drugs or girls?"

"What?" Olivia momentarily forgot what they'd been talking about. " _Oh_ …girls."

"Horrible."

"It's soul crushing," Olivia sighed, "But we rescued several of them…probably hundreds more in Manhattan alone, but it's a start."

"Sounds like your time off came at the right time."

"That's for sure."

Noah pushed the ball across the table with more force and squealed with delight.  
"Careful, Noah. We don't want to spill Tucker's beer."

Tucker teased Noah by tapping the tip of the ball on his nose, cheeks, and the top of his head. Noah giggled as he tried to grab the football. More importantly, for the first time, Tucker heard a sustained laugh come from Olivia Benson. He played it off and pretended nothing special was happening, but he promised to store that sound for future subliminal replay.

"Olivia?"

"Oh, hey, Lucy! Thank you for picking him up here."

"No problem. It's right on my way," she said cheerfully.

Olivia introduced Tucker and re-bundled Noah. Ed handed her the diaper bag and squeezed Noah's hand. "Nice meeting you, pal."

Noah smiled at him and pointed to the table, making the ball noise again.

"Almost forgot this," Olivia said, "Let's put it in the bag so you don't drop it." She kissed Noah on the cheek, "Bye my love. Thanks again, Luce."

"Have a nice dinner," Lucy said, "See ya later!"

Olivia took a drink and stared down a young man who passed their table.

"Are you ok?"

She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a knuckle, "Yeah, that guy, he had on a KOBS shirt."

Ed stared at her, clueless.

"The alternate gaming universe thing, group, I don't know…the people who kidnapped Raina were a part of it."

"Never woulda guessed."

Olivia rolled her eyes, "I certainly got an unwanted education from that case."

Ed nodded in agreement, "The last video game I played was the original Nintendo. Super Mario Brothers."

"When I was growing up, it was Atari."

"My girls wanted the thing," Ed recalled, an amused look on his face, "they played it for a week and lost interest. I may still have it somewhere."

"It's amazing how much you accumulate, although, I've been pretty good about getting rid of the things Noah's grown out of or doesn't play with anymore."

"How long have you had him?"

"Nine months," Olivia answered, thinking it sounded weird.

By now, Olivia had grown accustomed to two distinct Tucker voices—IAB and slightly less intense IAB. When he spoke next, his tone took on a gentleness she did not recognize.

"Has it been a tough adjustment?" He hoped Benson wouldn't mind him getting a little more personal.

"It's getting easier," she replied wistfully, "Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to have him, I've started the adoption paperwork, but it's also exhausting. In a good way. If that makes any sense."

"It makes complete sense."

"How far apart in age are your daughters?"

"Two years."

"I can't imagine."

Ed chuckled a little, "Even with two of us it always seemed like we were outnumbered."

The waiter came over to take their order, and both Tucker and Benson silently welcomed the interruption. Ed didn't want to talk about his ex-wife, and Olivia was definitely not ready to hear about her.

"Do you want to share the zucchini?"

Olivia smiled. Last time they both ordered the fried zucchini and the portions were huge. "Sure." They took turns ordering their meals and continued the conversation.

"So what are you doing with the rest of your days off?"

Olivia shrugged, "Hanging out with Noah. Hopefully the weather warms up a little so we can get some fresh air. His lungs…he got zero medical attention when he was an infant and who knows where they kept him," Olivia had to swallow the lump in her throat, "He has trouble breathing when the air is frigid like it's been."

Tucker resisted the temptation to take her hands in his. Concern for her son was etched on her face and he wanted her pain to go away. She gripped her pint glass with both hands. All he had to do was reach over. Their fingers were inches apart. If she flinched he could play it off as accidental.

Nope. Too risky. No guts. _Tucker, you spineless coward_.

He conjured every ounce of compassion in his body and mind, "He looks nice and healthy. Something he'll maybe grow out of?"

She met his eyes, "My pediatrician says that's a possibility. But right now…every little wheeze makes me nervous."

"He's lucky to have you."

Olivia, completely in awe, had trouble figuring out what to say next. Accepting non-threatening Tucker was challenging enough. Now this? She didn't quite know what to do with kind and caring Tucker.

Tonight's waiter, although slow on drink delivery, had impeccable timing when it came to interrupting their conversation. The food's arrival allowed for a subject change.

Tucked picked up a piece of Zucchini immediately.

"Remember, it's scorching hot," she warned. Last time, Tucker scalded his mouth on his first bite.

"Yeah, thanks," he replied shyly and took a tiny bite.

"Your burger looks good."

Tucker ordered last week's second choice—medium rare Kobe burger with pimento cheese, bacon, and tomatillos. He cut it in half and then cut a smaller piece and put it on her plate. "Give it a try."

"Thank you."

Olivia reciprocated.

Ed popped the piece into his mouth. "That's good. I like the avocado. I'd never think to put that on a burger. But, then again, I wouldn't think to put many of the things they have here on a burger."

"No kidding." Olivia took a bite, swallowed, and asked him to pass the ketchup. In the exchange she made sure to act like her attention was diverted to something interesting at the bar, and she accidentally brushed his fingers. When they touched, amorous warmth rippled through her body. Addicted to that long-dormant feeling of arousal, she deliberately set the bottle off to the side, well out of his reach. Tucker played along and asked for it back, but instead of looking off to the side, he stared directly into her eyes as his fingers partially covered hers.

She was busted, and she didn't care.

They finished eating, boxed the leftovers, and Tucker convinced her to have one bourbon before they parted for the evening. Olivia expected to walk the five blocks home by herself, but he again insisted on walking with her even though he lived in the opposite direction. Tucker checked his phone and reported that tomorrow's weather was supposed to be a balmy forty degrees.

"So hopefully you can get the little guy out?"

"It's supposed to be that warm? We'll definitely go out. Hopefully Noah's caseworker shows up in the morning."

"Scheduled visit tomorrow?"

"Yes, and…she's, _thorough_ , to put it diplomatically. So I need to make sure everything's in order tonight."

They were in front of her building now and as they wrapped up the small talk, Tucker plotted his goodbye routine.

"In order how?"

"Outlets covered, cabinets secured…you know, all those little things."

" _Wow_ ," Ed murmured.

"She makes me feel so _incompetent_. It's stressful…knowing one little thing can displease her, and—"

He heard her voice waver, and, as per his recent custom, he clutched her forearm. "Hey," he cocked his head, "Don't underestimate yourself. And certainly do not use the word _incompetent_."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Good luck tomorrow," he whispered and leaned forward, still holding her arm but keeping distance between their bodies. He felt her stiffen a bit, probably unsure about what was going to happen next. With slightly parted lips so as to make no mistake that this was beyond the bounds of simple friendship, he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Night, Sergeant." He rasped.

Olivia fought a shudder and almost dropped her Styrofoam container. She didn't know what she was expecting, but she could not have predicted that a kiss on the cheek would render her speechless and wobbly-kneed.

She managed to return a throaty goodnight.

"I'll see ya soon." He spun around and started to walk away but stopped in his tracks when she called his name. She was leaning against the open door, and for a split second he thought she was going to ask him to come up.

"Yeah?"

"You can call me Olivia, you know."

He smirked, "One thing at a time, Benson."

She shook her head, grinned, and thanked him for dinner, something she'd forgotten to do earlier.

"Anytime."

Olivia gave him a parting wave and disappeared into her building.

Once again, she found herself alone in the elevator replaying the evening in her head. Tucker took the bait and met Noah. Not only that, he was completely at ease, brought a present, and eagerly held him while Olivia removed her coat. More significant was the realization that there was something more serious developing between the two of them. Olivia hadn't been sure until tonight, and it wasn't just because he'd kissed her. With each meeting their conversations became more personal and she felt herself gradually revealing information she typically kept guarded.

She touched her cheek where he'd placed his lips and the pleasant tingles returned. There would have been no objection on her part if he'd gone for a real kiss, but his gallantry made it seem more romantic.

She pulled out her phone before unlocking her door.

 _Thanks again for tonight._

She didn't read his response until Lucy left.

 _My pleasure. Don't be a stranger_.

I definitely won't, Olivia thought as she sunk into her couch cushions. I definitely won't.

…

 _ **Moving forward to Granting Immunity next! Thanks for your reviews, and if you've left a request that works with the timeline, I'll put it in eventually. Bear with me on this #Tuckson slow burrrrrrrnnnn!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Granting Immunity**_ _: Sometimes I crack up at the way SVU writers are able to capture certain (usually despised) groups of people so well that it almost seems like satire within the drama, and then of course I feel bad because these stories are all serious and involve victims who have to deal with devastating emotional and physical trauma. In Granting Immunity, the way the uber-wealthy, sophisticated, and disgustingly superficial Tribeca moms were portrayed was hilarious (except for the fact they blindly followed the Malko lady and lied about getting their kids immunized)—I want to live in a world where I drink wine and eat sushi and complain about my kid's $45,000 a year school in a $10,000,000 loft in the middle of the day. Wait, no I don't. Well, yes I do. Minus the snobbery. Ya'll are invited to my loft. Rainbow parties not allowed. Sorry to be such a prude._

 _My favorite part of this episode was OMB telling Queen Bee that she might want to think about shutting her mouth cuz anti-vaxer pseudo-science-loving whack-job was about to get knocked the fuck out by Mama Bear Benson. And, ya know I love Barba, but unless his repressed sexual attraction towards law student Carisi was manifesting as rudeness, then there is NO EXCUSE, none I tell you, for him being such as asshole to my sweetheart Sonny._

 _Rollins being unsympathetic and sarcastically muttering she was never having kids when she was just recently knocked up by Declan—best foreshadowing evaaaaah (hi, Pat)…and she has a girl. Start collecting some switches, my transplanted southern belle._

 _Oh, and just one more thing about this ep…at the beginning the teenager with the fever insists on going to school and then stepmom lets him kiss his baby brother? I guess they had to have that happen maybe to transmit the measles to poor Noah, but still…_

 _We are in late March-Early April, 2015 on the timeline. Oh, one more thing about the dates. This episode spans almost a month which means Noah was in the hospital for three weeks or maybe longer. Yikes._

 _I appreciate everyone sticking with the story. In my next take on early #Tuckson they will get drunk and fuck right away, leading to OMB's pregnancy._

…..

Lieutenant Tucker straightened his tie before he stepped out of the elevator and into SVU's squad room. It was the middle of the day and officers milled about in a businesslike manner. The Sixteenth Precinct was bustling with police activity, and he initially blended in with the crowd.

Fin noticed him first. "Damn," he muttered to Rollins.

She rolled her eyes, "You think he's here about the shooting? That was weeks ago."

Fin screwed up his face, "You know how these people are. They find the right lawyer, they start seein' dollar signs."

Tucker didn't see Benson in her office, so he approached the two detectives. "Is your Sergeant in?"

"No," Rollins answered petulantly, deliberately withholding further information. The less the rat squad knew the better.

He understood that her brusque demeanor was, perhaps, justified, and fought the urge to counter it with his own abrasiveness. "Where is she?" He asked flatly.

Fin conceded a little, "Liv's at home with her son. She'll be back tomorrow."

Tucker spun on his heel and left without saying anything further. He had been hoping to treat Benson to lunch, but he returned to IAB without eating.

Fin and Rollins exchanged a wary look, wondering what the IAB asshole was up to now.

….

"Lucy, why don't you go on home?

Olivia cuddled Noah on the couch. He was content and close to sleep, and Lucy had been practically living at the apartment since he'd been discharged from the hospital. Though reluctant to leave, Olivia could tell she was exhausted.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," Olivia replied, "Thank you for all your help, hon."

Lucy smiled, confirmed tomorrow's start time, and headed home.

As much as Olivia wanted to hold Noah, she worried about him getting overheated. The pack-n-play was set up nearby and she placed him in it gently; she was so edgy that she didn't want to be more than a few feet away from him at all times.

After checking in with the squad, she reclined against some pillows and closed her eyes. It was hell to be so exhausted yet unable to sleep. Anger boiled within her and she couldn't expel Trudi Malko's smug, self-righteous expression from her mind. Even though she was in jail serving her sentence for reckless endangerment, Olivia was certain she would continue her crusade to "educate" parents on the dangers of vaccination.

Olivia's phone vibrated on the coffee table. The reverberations startled Noah who hadn't yet fallen into a deep sleep, so Olivia snatched it quickly. There was a text from Tucker asking if everything was ok.

 _Not exactly, but not as bad as it was._

Suddenly, the text screen changed to that of an incoming call. She went to the back hall and picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey, I stopped by the squad earlier to see if you wanted to go to lunch. I thought you said you were going to be back at work today. Something happen?"

"No, Dr. Lee just wanted to keep him under observation for the full round of antibiotics and it took a little longer than she anticipated. We're home now."

"Oh, ok."

"I'll be back at work tomorrow," Olivia reported in a hushed voice.

"That's not why I was calling."

Olivia conjured some sass, "It wasn't?" She imagined he was making a face, perhaps a little annoyed she assumed his concern was business-related.

"No." She heard a rustling, like he was shifting in his chair. "I haven't eaten yet. Can I bring you something?"

There wasn't much time to think or to come up with an excuse to avoid a late afternoon home visit from Ed Tucker. Besides, she was hungry and it wouldn't hurt to have some company. "Um, sure. If you don't mind."

"Not at all. There's a deli I go to all the time near me. You want a sandwich? Or Italian? Chinese?"

"Sandwich sounds great, I'm getting sick of Chinese."

Tucker sensed she was stressed and overextended and probably not interested in making mundane decisions about food. "I'll bring a couple different things. Anything you don't like?"

"Just not liverwurst or something weird like that."

Tucker laughed. "I'll cross that off the list."

…..

Olivia had just finished clearing clutter from the living room and kitchen when Tucker arrived. Cognizant of the fact that Noah could be sleeping, he texted rather than ring the doorbell. Spending some casual time at her place simultaneously intrigued and terrified him, but he relaxed when she answered the door looking happy to see him. The sight of her in torn jeans and a t-shirt was an added bonus. He followed her to the kitchen and gingerly unwrapped the food, trying not to crinkle the wrapping too loudly. She sat next to him at the counter, and they spoke in hushed tones.

"Where's this from?" She asked, inspecting the sandwich—cold cuts and cheese with peppers between focaccia bread. Tucker also brought chips, potato salad, and a chocolate cake wedge.

"A little place by the office. I didn't know it was there until a year ago. It's actually, uh, in the back of a jewelry store. I didn't wanna go in there at first, but Draper insisted."

Olivia smiled knowingly, " _New York_."

"Like it?"

"Really good. Love the sauce they put on it."

Tucker took a satisfied bite. "You ever live anywhere other than Manhattan?"

"Nope, other than college. You?"

"I grew up in the Bronx, but I've been here since the Academy." Ed picked at the potato salad. "We just got this new guy, his wife was transferred, and they're from, uh, Omaha or something Midwestern like that. Anyway, he's pissed. They're in Staten Island and he's trying to drive in every day."

"Someone should've helped them out," Olivia said, a little flabbergasted that they would have been advised to try to continue the suburban life here in the city, "At least, if they insist on driving, not _Staten Island_. And why doesn't he just take the ferry?"

"I think they drive in together."

"That's awful."

Tucker almost choked as he guffawed. He snapped his head around to look at Noah. Still sleeping. Good. Harmless outburst. Her comment was so unexpectedly venomous, he couldn't help but react that way. "You wouldn't want company on your way to work?" He needled her, knowing the answer.

" _No_ ," she responded sharply but unable to hide her amusement, "I need some peace before I get to the squad, so, a constant morning companion _plus_ traffic? No thank you."

"I don't know. It might be nice."

Olivia clearly didn't believe him. "Tucker, I don't see you as much of a morning conversationalist. Actually, until, _this_ , I didn't think of you as a conversationalist _at all_."

" _Hey_."

He exaggerated the verbal injury, but Olivia still felt a little pang of guilt. Once again, she'd unintentionally wounded him. He didn't deserve that. She had to be more careful not to allow old hostilities to cloud this new path they'd taken. However, in her defense, the comment was true.

Tucker saw the remorse in her face, "But now you know better, right?"

"I do," she murmured.

"Good."

Olivia craned her neck to see the clock. "Well, it's after five, want a drink?"

"Sure."

She went over to a side cabinet and returned with a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

Ed's eyes widened, "I predicted wine."

"That's where the smart money would've gone." She handed him a glass and motioned toward the living area, "Let's sit."

Olivia stood over Noah and adjusted the light blanket before joining Ed on the couch. She sat on one end, he on the other, and they sipped the bourbon in semi-silence.

"Sorry I'm kind of out of it today," she said, "I'm so exhausted."

"You don't seem out of it," Tucker insisted, although her fatigue was obvious in her face and in her movements. An idea popped in his head and before he had time to talk himself out of it, he verbalized the thought. "Why don't you catch a nap while I'm here?"

He caught her mid-swallow. She blinked. "I can't ask—"

"You're not asking. I'm offering. And I don't mind. Just tell me if he needs anything in particular when he wakes up."

"Are you sure?"

Ed couldn't believe it. She was going to accept. That was perfectly ok with him; he just thought it was a long shot.

" _Sergeant_ ," he implored, "Go get some sleep. I've taken care of sick kids before."

"Ok. The doctor told me to give him Pedialyte, it's on the counter. There's a bowl of food in the fridge I tried to give him earlier. He only ate half, so if he seems hungry, just give him that. I'll set my alarm. An hour, tops."

"Don't set the alarm. I got it."

She reached over, gave his free hand a little squeeze, and thanked him. After pointing out where the diapers were stored, she yawned and went to curl up in her bed.

….

Olivia emerged three hours later. It was almost dark. She didn't bother fixing her hair, and the messy ponytail and slightly smudged eye makeup created an unintentionally sultry appearance.

"I'm sorry," she said, stretching her arms, "I didn't think I would sleep that long."

"No problem. You needed it."

"I guess I did." She took Noah into her arms, "Hey, little man! Were you good for Tucker?"

"He was great," Ed answered. "We watched the news. He ate what you had in the fridge, and then I gave him one of those Gerber Graduates things."

"Perfect, he finally has his appetite back. Thanks."

"I put the leftovers in the fridge for you," Ed put his jacket on and collected his keys, "I better go."

Olivia put Noah in the playpen and walked Tucker to the door. "I really appreciate this," she said softly.

Ed thought he saw tears welling in her eyes, and he did his best to match the tenderness in her voice, "I'm glad I could help."

To his surprise, she threw her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. He brought her closer, holding her tightly, so her body was pressed against his. He closed his eyes. Their cheeks were flush with one another. Her hair was in his face, and he inhaled the scent of her shampoo.

"Thank you," she whispered. It was barely audible.

"You're welcome."

Noah fussed. "I better get him," she mumbled but didn't completely retract.

Their faces were inches apart. Her deep brown eyes seemed livelier, and a pinkish hue supplanted what had been a sallow complexion.

"Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

She still made no move to completely disengage.

It seemed like it took an eternity for him to close the distance between them. Unlike the cheek kiss, there was absolutely no chance for a misconstrued meaning this time. With his mouth slightly open he pressed his lips to hers and breathed in, creating gentle suction.

She soaked up the contact, her heart pounded, and her body filled with warmth. For weeks now, Olivia anticipated how it would feel to be right here, securely cocooned in his arms, but her imagination did not come close to doing the real thing justice.

The whole thing lasted maybe thirty seconds. In those seconds, Noah was completely healthy, Ms. Jackson was kind, Chief Dodds was understanding, Johnny D didn't exist, victims were at peace…she was cared for.

Tucker felt her go almost limp against his chest; the tension leaving her body was palpable, and he hoped he'd somehow conveyed the depth of his affection for her. If she was willing to give him a chance, he was eager to fill any empty space in her heart.

Noah's whimpers began to intensify.

Olivia opened her eyes and tilted her head back. A soft smack echoed in the foyer as their lips parted. Ed froze for an extra second as if she hadn't broken the kiss then lifted his lids and took a dazed step backwards.

"Try to get some more rest tonight." His husky voice dripped with sincere concern.

"Ok," she replied breathlessly, "Thank you again. For everything. The food, le—"

He brushed a finger gently across her lips. "You're welcome. And I'll do it again if you need me to."

"I may take you up on that."

"Please do."

Olivia nodded towards the living room. Noah's fussing had abated to pitiful sniffles. "I need to get him. See you soon?"

"I know you have a lot going on. You call me, ok?"

"Ok."

Tucker, apparently unable to resist ending an evening without shooting her his trademark smirk, did just that before leaving.

Noah smiled and cooed sweetly at his mother. She closely inspected him, pleased his color was returning and his eyes were bright and alert as they darted around the room. Olivia spoke softly, smoothing his hair. "Are you looking for Tucker, sweet boy? He went home. But I think…we'll see him again soon."

Olivia grabbed some toys and books and put them next to her on the couch, hoping to hang out there for the rest of the night. She sunk into the cushions with Noah in her lap.

Tucker kissed her.

 _Lieutenant_ Ed Tucker. Of IAB. SVU Enemy Number One. Uncompromising, detestable, austere Ed Tucker, through just one kiss, managed to redefine his entire place in her life.

Questions swirled. What was happening? What exactly did he want? Was there an ulterior motive behind his willingness to watch Noah? How long should she wait before calling him? What should they do on their next date?

 _Did he always kiss like that?_

She remembered that he mentioned visiting her precinct earlier that day. Surely Fin and Rollins would want to know what he wanted.

She'd definitely have to make something up.

….

 **Getting closer to Parents Nightmare and Surrendering Noah! But first, Daydream Believer and Perverted Justice (with an appearance from Captain Cragen)!**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Daydream Believer—**_ _William Lewis' soul(less) mate, Greg Yates, is apprehended, tried, and found guilty. Sorry, Dallas Roberts and Pablo Schreiber…you could each win back-to-back-to-back Oscars-I'm still not watching any of your future work. Also, what's up with SVU ruining all these songs forever? At least I'm not a fan of green nail polish…cuz that'd be dead to me, too._

 _On another note_ _—Susie (Yates' fiancée) was one sycophantic excuse away from me putting my fist through the TV and shaking some sense into her._

 _ **Perverted Justice—**_ _I love Bayard Ellis. If you haven't seen this one in a while, it's worth the rewatch just for him and also for the barbs shot at Carisi by pretty much everybody. This was a classic "gray, gray, gray" SVU ep, and it made my heart hurt because Benson doubted justice had been served and the desperate look in Michelle's eyes as she hugged her father who maybe-maybe-not assaulted her suggested to me that she really had no clue what or who to believe, and even Ellis' million-dollar smile couldn't convince me that Daddy really was innocent. This was the least-satisfying ep in 16…no shade…just the way it is—conclusions aren't always, er, conclusive._

 _Last thing:_ _The Unitarian dedication ceremony with Noah was weird to me. Did Benson just randomly choose a church? Is she going to integrate services as he grows up? If not, I don't really see the point. Is she going to remind him when he's a teenager, "Hey, Noah, feeling lost? Empty inside? Prone to wanderlust? Indecisive? Well, you're a Unitarian, go get grounded!"_

 _"Uh, mom? WTF are you talking about?"_

 _I could be way off here…I just don't get it._

 _Here's the next_ _ **Truce**_ _Chapter. At the risk of setting expectations incredibly low, I don't like it very much, but I felt like there needed to be something before things heat up in Parents Nightmare and Surrendering Noah. At least I think they'll heat up…IDK_

… **..**

Olivia pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder and shoved her overnight bag and oversized purse in the back seat of the taxi before she hurled herself in and slammed the door.

"JFK," she told the cabbie. She was grateful the flight was leaving from there instead of LaGuardia. She hated LaGuardia with a passion.

The driver took off with a jolt causing Olivia to fall back against the seat. Tucker finally picked up.

" _Umph_!"

"Sergeant?"

"Hi."

"Everything alright?" There was alarm in his voice.

"Oh, yeah, everything's fine." His obvious concern warmed her heart. "But, I'm going to have to cancel tonight. I'm on my way to the airport."

"Where ya goin?"

"Chicago."

Tucker was in his office going over some files with Cole, so he tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. The initial thrill of her call fizzled quickly and left residual disappointment. "Ok. Well, have a safe flight, and, uh, stay warm. I saw on the news this morning, cold front moving through there."

The taxi merged onto Grand Central Parkway, jostling Benson into the door. Tucker heard the thud and then another strange noise from Benson before she responded. "I'm all set. I shouldn't be gone for more than two days. I'll give you a call when I get back."

"Sounds good, Sergeant." Tucker ended the call and turned back to the paperwork, picking up where he left off until he noticed Cole had stopped working. He looked up. "Problem?"

Something about the call intrigued Sergeant Draper, and it showed on his face. "Who was that?"

"Sergeant Benson."

"Sergeant _Benson_?" Cole repeated, barely moving his lips as he spoke, "Is she under investigation? Have to report in to you?" Tucker's partner knew these were ridiculous questions, but he couldn't resist needling him, especially considering Tucker had the option of lying about the caller.

"Course not."

Stonewalled, Cole pressed his lips in a straight line and narrowed his eyes. "You two have something going on?"

Tucker answered a little too quickly, "Nah."

"Are you sure?"

"Cole, don't you think I would know if something was going on?"

"Alright, Tucker," Cole replied, refocusing on the task at hand, "I gotcha."

They flipped through officers' jackets for a few minutes with nothing but the sound of shuffled papers filling the room.

" _Yeah_ ," Cole said facetiously, "I think you'd probably wanna admit it if something was going on with _her_."

…..

The day after Olivia's return she spent the morning and afternoon with Noah before returning to the precinct. Not long after she arrived, Voight called. Greg Yates was apparently on his way to New York City, and the squad was hard at work tracking his movements. During her brief moments alone, Olivia struggled to suppress images and recollections of William Lewis. If Yates was their guy, which seemed more and more certain, he and Lewis had strikingly similar personas. Both psychopaths were cool and calculated and predictable yet elusive. Olivia's resolve to take down Yates took on a personal angle, especially since she understood the terror his victims felt. She hoped against hope they could intercept him in time to save Nadia.

That didn't happen.

Yates' trial date approached quickly, and the first morning did not go well. The accused decided to represent himself and he proved skilled at attaching doubt to what both Barba and the detectives believed was solid testimony. Dr. Warner and Detective Lindsay left the stand frustrated, and even on redirect, Barba struggled to refute Yates' insinuation that Nadia was an unstable addict who prostituted herself for drug money.

Olivia brushed off the ADA's last-minute request to go over her testimony. They spent several hours the night before prepping, but Barba was still apprehensive. There were some minor problems with the initial investigation, but he was mostly worried about Yates' cross-examination and that its parallels with William Lewis' trial would rattle her, or worse, trigger an incapacitating flashback.

To Barba's astonishment, Yates did not aggressively go after Sergeant Benson. He pressed her on the reliability of another suspect's alibi, but Benson held firm and stood by the investigation. Her testimony certainly didn't hurt the state's case, but it didn't necessarily help a whole lot either. Olivia asked Barba if he wanted to go for a drink after court recessed for the day, but he declined. He needed to figure out how to ensnare and then drive a stake through Yates' defense.

Olivia and Noah ate dinner together and proceeded with their usual evening routine—playtime, bath, books, and bed. Back in the living room, she propped the iPad baby monitor and poured a glass of wine, a survivor's reward. Ever since they began pursuing Yates, Lewis' face crept back into her thoughts and mind. At some point in each of the past two nights, she awoke with a start, not because of a nightmare, but because of an intense, sinister sensation-her past experiences surfacing. Instead of seeing him in her sleep, he appeared in front of her when she opened her eyes- the scar, the hearing aid, the furious, spittle-filled, clenched-jaw cross-examination, "DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT BRUTALLY BEAT ME WITHIN AN INCH OF MY LIFE WHILE I WAS LYING HELPLESS HANDCUFFED TO THE BED?"

It was borderline too late when she called Tucker. An earlier text of his went unanswered, so the call wasn't exactly unsolicited, and she needed something more comforting than her own inner strength. The wine helped. The memory of his embrace and his kiss helped. But, she feared sleep. She dreaded waking to the monster's face. Maybe if she talked to Tucker she could invite friendlier subjects into her subconscious, and, perhaps, she could go to sleep without opening the second bottle of wine. Olivia hesitated. Her pride made her second-guess what she was about to do. What if he…ah, forget it. She wanted to call him, so she did just that.

He answered on the second ring. "Tucker."

"Hi. It's Benson. Is this a bad time?"

"Nah, just watching end of what looks like a very cold Yankees game. How'd it go today?"

"Sorry I didn't text you back."

Ever the investigator, Ed pointed out she didn't answer the question and added, "I assumed you were in court."

"I was."

" _And_?"

Olivia laid back on a pillow, "Not good. Yates is working the jury. And he's good at it."

"Psychopaths do that." Ed cringed as soon as he uttered the remark, and he tried to smooth it over. "Barba's good at his job, though. And how do the forensics look?"

"They're solid," she replied. "But if it went to the jury now, we'd have at least one not guilty. He's _that_ effective."

"Well," Ed tried to sound upbeat which was definitely not his most natural tone, "Worst case scenario—hung jury, he'll stay in Rikers on remand, and Barba can try him again."

"Yeah."

He could tell he hadn't said what she wanted to hear. Lieutenant Ed Tucker did not do that. He did not sugar coat the truth; however, this was not IAB v. SVU.

" _Listen_ ," He, too, was on his couch and he glanced down at the empty cushion next to him as if she were there. He kind of wished she was there. "Trust Barba. Yates is unstable. And he's representing himself? Somethin's gonna break him. He'll make a mistake."

Olivia wasn't so sure. "He'll need to take the stand to do that."

"From what I've heard, this guy is an egomaniac. He'll testify."

"Let's hope so. But, good point."

"Hey, I have a lot going on this week, but _call._ I owe you a drink."

Olivia screwed up her face. "You do?"

"Yeah."

"I'll definitely need a drink when this is over," she replied, "Guilty or not, I'll need one."

"Ok. Hang in there. Hey, how's Noah?"

"Still a little sluggish, but he's much better."

"He has a good mother to take care of him."

 _Barely_ , she thought. "Let's hope CFS and the Judge agrees with that."

"They will."

She closed her eyes. That voice. _They will_. Deep. Raspy. Confident.

"Thanks, Tucker."

"Anytime."

"I should try and get some sleep."

"Night, Benson."

"Night."

….

The guilty verdict brought a sense of closure but no immediate sense of justice to any of the cops. Voight and Benson led the way out of the courthouse and their combined squads sat down for a few drinks at a nearby bar. Olivia sent a text to Tucker, notifying him of the outcome and also informing him she was out. He replied, obviously pleased with the verdict but also adding that he was wrapping up drinks with Cole, and if she wanted to stop on her way home, he'd wait.

 _I really need to get home_ , she replied.

 _Some other time_

Olivia tried not to read too much into his response. It seemed perfunctory, almost pouty. Could a text message be pouty? Jealous? There was no reason for him to be jealous. They weren't dating. Were they? No. But that kiss. That kiss meant something, and they hadn't seen each other since. She threw him a bone.

 _I'm still trying to figure out how you owe me a drink._

Tucker didn't immediately respond. In the meantime, Voight stalked off, saying he wanted to be alone. The two Chicago detectives decided to stay longer and Fin offered to drive Olivia home. She accepted.

Her phone vibrated on the way, but she didn't check it until she was in her building. Tucker's message made her smile.

 _I'm sure there's something in the past decade I need to make up for_. _You pick._

…..

Days after the Yates case, Bayard Ellis asked Olivia to take a look at the possibility that Derek Thompson had been convicted due to false and coerced testimony of his then-six-year-old daughter Michelle. As SVU dug deeper into the evidence, they enlisted the help of Captain Cragen who was familiar with the detectives who investigated the initial complaint. One afternoon while the squad tracked down leads and sorted through old and new witness testimony, the former boss and the current SVU commanding officer snuck out for a cup of coffee. It was too chilly to sit outdoors, so they nabbed a tiny window table inside.

"So, Olivia, how is it being in charge?" Cragen's eyes drilled into hers in his typical, no-nonsense, omnipotent way. It was as if he already knew the answer.

Olivia exhaled and forced a smile, "It's…good. But a lot more difficult than I thought it would be."

"There are some things you can't prepare for," Cragen said sagely, "You can get the highest scores on the exams, but there's no way to prepare for leadership other than being the leader."

"Well, I watched you for all those years. I thought I had a good idea."

"You also have some big personalities in your squad."

"That's for sure." Olivia checked her phone. No messages or missed calls—just Noah's smiling face on her lock screen. "In addition to this little guy," Olivia held the phone so Cragen could see the picture, "I now have four adult children."

"It'll get easier, Liv," he assured her, "You're the right person. Give it time. And stick to your guns."

"Of course."

"Now, let me see more pictures of him. Noah, right?"

"Right."

Cragen flipped through her photo album with a silly, proud grin on his face. Olivia updated him on the adoption process, remarking how these last few weeks leading up to the official adoption date were slogging along at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Oh," Cragen interrupted her ramblings, "You got a text." He very nearly tossed the phone at Olivia.

No wonder. The text was from Tucker.

Cragen peered at her critically. "What's going on with IAB? Who is it now?"

Olivia felt her face get hot. "It, well, it, uh, was Amaro," She stammered, "And then Fin. Amaro's Dad. Fin shot a perp—he was cleared quickly."

Cragen cocked his head, startled by her incoherence, "Is it _you_?"

"No." Olivia put the phone face down on the table. "Tucker's just…checking in."

"Checking in?"

"He's actually lightened up…a bit. We've, uh, with Amaro, twice this year, and then Fin, we've had to see IAB more than we'd like. And maybe he's hovering over us a little because I'm still new at this."

A rookie cop could have detected the evasion in Olivia's answers, but Cragen let it go and returned the subject to Noah. "I'm so happy you have Noah, Liv. I always thought you would be a great mother."

"Thanks. I'm happy for you, too."

Cragen leaned forward and lowered his voice, "It's never too late to commit yourself to family. I still get a little sad though, sometimes, that I didn't make that commitment sooner. Think about that." There was a knowing glint in his eye as he offered his advice.

 _He knew something was up_.

"I will."

…..

After Derek Thompson was found not guilty, Olivia declined Ellis' drink offer and instead hustled off to meet Tucker. She was an hour behind schedule, and even though she'd been keeping him posted, tardiness, even the unavoidable type, annoyed her. All SVU cases came with their own unique trauma, but the personal nature of Yates and the ambiguity of this most recent investigation added extra layers of stress. Olivia wanted to relax. For the next couple hours, she wanted to jettison all anxiety, all pressure, all the weight that came with leadership…and maybe laugh a little while bantering with Tucker.

He had a bourbon waiting for her.

"Wow," she murmured. "Great service."

"NYPD's hardest working Sergeant deserves it."

She pushed strands of hair from her face and coyly mumbled, "Thank you."

"You've been busy lately."

Olivia took a long drink. "I have been. We really could use another detective. I doubt One PP will buy my argument for one, but maybe I'll give it a shot after Johnny D's trial. A conviction should get me some leverage."

Ed's eyelids drooped and his words came out slightly slurred. "I'd give you another detective."

Olivia smiled at him. The fact he was clearly two or three drinks in made her more self-assured. "Why don't you mention that to your buddies downtown?" She joked.

"How do you know I have buddies downtown?" He gently elbowed her.

"Well, _do_ you?"

"Yes."

"Of course you do."

"You don't?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "I know people at One PP. I wouldn't call them my friends."

"Do you consider me your friend?"

"You're not One PP," she pointed out cheekily.

"Let's forget about that," He took a step towards her and set his forearm flush with hers. Unlike all the other times they'd touched, neither one of them pulled away this time. He noticed her drink was nearly empty and signaled for another one. "Do you consider me your friend?" He asked again, more insistently this time, refusing to take his eyes off of her.

Those blue eyes, slightly obstructed by the alcohol-heavy lids, shone brightly in the dim light and darted from her forehead to her cheeks, her neck, and, finally, her lips. He opened his mouth to ask a third time, but she beat him to it.

"Tucker, I think I do."

He broke into the widest grin she'd ever seen on him.

 _Bzzzzt! Bzzzzt!_

Olivia's phone danced on the bar.

Tucker groaned.

Olivia's jovial expression immediately faded into dejection. "I have to leave."

"What's wrong?"

"Lucy's grandmother has been sick for a while and they just took her to the hospital. She needs to get there." Olivia grabbed her glass and blew Tucker away by downing the whole thing in one gulp. She winced, swallowed, and shot him a cocky smirk. "I'm sorry."

She had no time to react. Tucker grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her. Hard. Same technique as last time, though-mouth open, sucking her lips between his-he held her there for several seconds before releasing her with a flourish. "Don't be sorry."

Olivia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gaped at him.

"Ok," she said breathlessly, "I, uh, I'll see you later."

"I'll let you know about that detective."

" _Sure_."

Tucker shrugged. "You never know."

She turned to leave, "Don't stay out too late, Lieutenant."

"Lemme know when you get home, Sergeant."

Ed sipped his bourbon and leered at her until she disappeared through the door. He put his phone conspicuously on the bar so he could see the moment her _I'm home_ text arrived.

…..

 _A lot of little things going on in this chap that I felt needed to be implicitly or explicitly addressed before moving on. Based on their interactions in the last two eps in S16, I conclude that there wasn't a whole lot of kissy-face lovey-dovey #Tuckson going on at that point. I know you're all impatient for them to hop into the sack…I don't think it happened quite yet. I am trying to stay super true to what the Eps give us._

" _What, I can't just pop in?"_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Parents Nightmare**_ _—Of course the Dad did it. Right? He took Owen and shipped him to Iran and he's never going to see Mommy again (which may not have been such a bad thing, sorry to say, I spent the first half of the episode convinced she had the habits of Joe Utley except I didn't know Joe Utley then). Seems pretty clean cut to me. Well, not quite._

 _Dad did do it, but WTF? To scar his kid for life because he's too trusting? Damn, dude, talk about EXTREME throwing out the baby with the bathwater…RIP to the gregarious Owen Farhidi. BTW—I bet that kid was a gigantic pain in the ass for his teachers._

 _But again, and similar to Padre, WHO IN THE HELL REALLY CARES ABOUT THIS FUCKED UP FAMILY? Tucker popped in! Tucker popped in! And, to the #Tuckson lovers' delight, he stayed for one minute and twenty-two seconds which is 55 seconds longer than "I think you should try the bourbon" AND we got a little, GASP!, humor!_

" _Don't make a liar outta me."_

 _So the question I had, still have, and answered in this fic is-was he sniffing around 1PP for Benson or was the whole Lieutenant thing just an accidental discovery? No matter what, he was LOOKING OUT FOR HER which we all know he'll do again, #always, but on May 13, 2015 when this episode aired…to use the words of Tucker…I was like…_

" _That's a first."_

 _ **Surrendering Noah—**_ _Backing up a little_ _ **,**_ _I L-O-V-E Melinda Warner, but was it really necessary that she inform Benson of the DNA match? Did she legally have to do that? And was I the only one who, after stupid Ms. Jackson left and Langan was there all smiley, shouted NOOOOOO! when Olivia_ _ **went there**_ _about Noah's "biological parent?"_

 _Anyway, I certainly did not think the sadistic writers would cross the line and rip Noah from Benson's loving arms after going to such lengths to bring them together, but they certainly did a nice job keeping us in suspense for the first 37 or so minutes._

 _FINALLY Benson is "rewarded" for taking the moral high ground. Good for her. Even though it was rendered moot._

 _Two big fist bumps to Amaro and Fin for leaving the teddy bear on the table when they left scumbag and scumbag's lawyer at Rikers._

 _Also, I would trade my next two paychecks for RJB to tell me to man up. On Face Time._

 _Two subtle things I loved: Benson telling Barba "Tucker said this would be a bad week" and the look Tucker gives OMB when she tells him Johnny D was dead. SO MUCH GOING ON THERE (I'll stop, because I wrote about it below which is what you're really interested in reading, anyway.)_

 _Ready, Go!_

….

Sergeant Benson knew something was amiss the second she stepped in the squad room. All detectives worked dutifully at their desks, typing and clicking away, stern expressions on their faces. Olivia, feeling proud of herself for not completely breaking down at day care, had an extra spring in her step when she exited the elevator, but she stopped in her tracks and looked around curiously at her overly diligent squad.

"IAB's here, Liv," Fin informed her before she could ask.

"Oh. Ok." She adjusted the files under her arm and headed to her office.

Her glib reaction puzzled everyone.

Carisi tried to lighten the mood, "Maybe he dropped by for coffee."

Meanwhile, Olivia restrained what could have been a broad grin and greeted her visitor with a little sass, warranted, she thought, by the way their last encounter ended. "Tucker! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He looked up from his phone, and casually asked, "What? I can't just pop in?"

"No," she retorted, "What's going on?"

As soon as Tucker said "One PP" Olivia remembered their little back and forth about buddies at NYPD headquarters and Tucker's offhand remark about getting her another detective. Advocating for SVU was something Tucker had never done, so she didn't expect him to be bearing good news.

He wasn't. At least, not exactly.

If One PP intended to install a Lieutenant to command SVU, one of two things were going to happen. Olivia would be someone's subordinate or she would have to take the exam. Tucker lying about her having registered for the exam, and his parting advice to think about her second in command indicated he'd already made the decision for her. Oddly, she found herself not wanting to disappoint him.

After he left she absent-mindedly flipped through messages, trying to ward off the questions she had about Tucker's visit to One PP. Did he suspect they wanted a Lieutenant and go there purposely to get information to pass on to her? Or was it something he came across in passing while he was there on an unrelated matter? Either way, it certainly was nice of him to give her a heads up. With Noah's adoption likely to be finalized in the next few weeks, she would have one less thing to worry about and more time to prepare. The test was a must-do. There was no way Sergeant Benson wanted to hand over the reins just as she was getting comfortable. She looked online for the test and registration dates. Fourteen days were left in the registration window for the July exam. She made a mental note to call Cragen for additional assurance, but her mind was made up. She printed the forms and set them aside for later.

….

Later that night as Olivia relaxed on the sofa with a cup of tea and an endless pile of paperwork, she took a break at one point and called Tucker. She wanted wine, but her detectives were working round the clock on the Farhidi case, and she could be called at any time. Today's visit perplexed her for a reason other than the obvious. Only a few days ago Tucker planted that sloppy yet kind of adorable goodbye kiss on her before she left the bar. Today he arrived in buttoned-up professional mode. Sure, he tossed in a couple of lighthearted quips, but when she told him she was happy with the status quo, the IAB voice came back.

 _They want a Lieutenant. If it's not you, it's gonna be somebody else._

She thought their newfound friendship, though in its infancy, warranted a more informal tone between them. Maybe he was just trying to get his point across. Maybe he would be disappointed if she lost her command. Maybe he knew _she_ would be disappointed if she lost her command and had trouble comprehending why she was being difficult. Maybe he came as a friend.

He picked up on the first ring with a "Hey, Sergeant." It sounded like he was in a bar, perhaps among people watching the Yankees game; there was a general crowd drone punctuated by occasional outbursts of either cheers or groans.

"Hey, Tucker, I won't take up—"

"Hang on. Lemme go outside."

In the seconds it took him to leave wherever he was, Olivia felt slightly disheartened that he was out and hadn't invited her. Not that he was obligated or that she could have met him anyway. Still, those realities didn't make the feeling any less real.

"Ok," he said, "Sorry about that. Tight game."

"I'm sorry to bother you—"

"Not a bother."

 _Was he going to let her finish a sentence?_

"Anyway, I wanted to thank you for giving me that heads up today. I'll file the paperwork tomorrow for the July test."

"Good."

"I really appreciate you letting me know. Obviously, One PP wasn't going to do it."

"That woulda been terrible to walk into your office one morning and have it not be your office anymore. You know how they are."

"Yeah, well, thanks again."

"Listen, when you're ready to start studying, let me know. I can go over some things with ya you wouldn't expect to see." Ed realized the offer also came with the implication he didn't want to see her until then, so he quickly added, "I know you have a lot goin' on right now with the trial coming up and with the adoption."

"It'll be over soon." Her statement sounded more like a prayer. "I'll let you get back to the game."

"What are you up to?"

"Work and waiting. We have a missing kid out there somewhere. Possible parental abduction."

"It never ends."

"No, it doesn't."

"So," As usual, Tucker had trouble saying goodbye. He was always caught between fantasy and reality. In his perfect, fairytale world, he would invite himself over, but in real life, rationality ruled. "I'm gonna go back in. But, if you have a free night or—"

This time, she did the interrupting, "I'll call."

…

Olivia left Judge Barth's chambers late Thursday after walking her through how and when she came to know about Noah's parentage; the judge seemed understanding and accommodating and, like Barba, surprised that Sergeant Benson even opted to name Johnny D on the forms. On the street, Olivia sent Tucker a text asking him to meet her at a restaurant near her apartment so she could fill him in. Now that Johnny D's lawyer filed the motion, there was no more hiding the truth she'd kept buried for the past few months, and it could potentially be an IAB issue. She arrived before him and ordered tea instead of wine, trying to reinforce the professional nature of the meeting.

"Olivia."

 _He used her first name_.

"Thank you for meeting me here."

He remained standing and regarded her with an air of concern, "Does your squad know about the situation?"

"They do now." Tucker wanted to hug her—the pained yet annoyed expression on her face was endearing. "Just to be clear, I did not know that Johnny D was Noah's," she chose her words carefully, " _biological parent_ until after the arrest."

"Ok," Tucker replied nonchalantly, "The ME confirms, we don't have a problem with it." He went on to tell her what everyone else told her—that she should've kept it to herself—and she rolled her eyes. Deception had never worked out well for her.

"Is that _tea_?" He asked, disgusted.

"It is."

"Man up, will ya?"

"Fine."

Tucker started to order, but Benson finished his request with a type of wine he'd never heard of before. Nero d'Avola. After he broke the news to her that Amaro would not, under any circumstances, be promoted, they sipped in silence for a few minutes.

"Trial starts this week?" Tucker asked.

Olivia sighed, "Yeah. We need to re-vet witnesses, secure testimony…"

"It'll be a rough one," Tucker said, inching closer to her, "They're gonna bring it up, ya know."

"I know. They'll make it look like a personal vendetta."

"Which Barba should be able to poke holes through pretty easily."

"He will," Olivia said, "But… _juries_."

"Once the girls testify they'll forget all about you," Tucker asserted.

Olivia appreciated his confidence and told him so. There was something about him tonight, maybe it was the look on his face or the extra layer of compassion in his voice, but, whatever it was, she felt at ease enough to talk about the repercussions of her decision.

"After it's over, no matter what happens, he's going to try and get visitation rights," Olivia said ruefully, "I'm sure of it."

"Can't you fight that?"

"I can. But…I…"

Ed saw her shoulders slump in defeat. It took every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from taking her into his arms.

"I'm so tired of fighting. It really is a seriously… _fucked up_ _world_ when someone like Johnny D can possibly have contact with a child."

"Hey," He touched her upper arm ever so slightly and she turned to him, "You're doing the right thing. The _brave_ thing. This week will be tough, but no family court judge in his or her right mind is going to let that happen."

Olivia's expression suggested she didn't believe his optimism.

He couldn't take it anymore. "C'mere," he muttered. She was still perched on the barstool and he stood and locked her in a tight embrace. The smell of her shampoo was familiar, but the feel of her body against his was still new and intriguing. Like the time they'd kissed in her apartment, she let her body fall into his, doing little to hide how much she enjoyed being in his arms. Even though he didn't agree with her decision, Tucker truly admired her for taking the ethical high road and tried to understand and support her. There was nothing he could do directly to make her life easier at the moment, but he hoped that this contact could maybe, just for a few seconds, relieve some tension.

Her torso inflated as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Her head was under his chin where his crisp shirt collar met his neck. Her lips very nearly met his skin and she almost kissed him. Almost. Obviously, she'd been hugged before, but not like this. There was something about being in Tucker's arms that made her accept her vulnerability.

"How long have you known about this?" Ed asked after he released her.

"Since January."

"That musta been agony," he thought out loud.

"It still is."

He touched her arm again, "You coulda told me sooner."

Olivia propped her head on her hand, peering at him, fascinated, captivated really, by her former adversary. "I almost did," she murmured, "the day you were at my house, but I didn't want to complicate things even further."

"Complicate what?"

"There needs to be a pretty well-defined line between work and us being friends."

Tucker couldn't help but feel defensive, "What did you think I was gonna do?"

"It wasn't that," Olivia explained, "I didn't want to put you in a bad spot if it became an issue down the road, which, it did."

"Look," he said seriously, understanding there was more to her reticence than what she'd disclosed, "I know you and I, well, there's some ugly things that happened, but if ya think I'll use something you tell me as ammunition for an investigation, that's not gonna happen."

Olivia smiled sardonically, "I really was just trying to keep things separate."

"You know that's not always going to be possible."

 _Always?_

"I am curious about something," Olivia said.

"What's that?"

"How exactly did you get the scoop from One PP?"

Tucker shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "I was having coffee with the commissioner and Abraham was there, ya know, talking about how he was working the media in NYPD's favor. He brought up the trial and how a guilty verdict would be huge…and it just developed from there. Commissioner talked about you like your command was temporary, and when I pressed him on it and realized the only issue was that he wanted a Lieutenant, well, that's when I told them you registered. So…since I kinda put you on the spot, I'm willing to help you prepare."

"You didn't have to do that."

Tucker screwed up his face, "Why wouldn't I? You're one of the most competent COs we have, I may have spoken outta turn by telling them you registered, but you woulda done it anyway."

"I would have?" She challenged, a smirk on her face.

Tucker's face contorted into a wry smile; he liked it when she sassed him. Her playfulness was indicative of an increasing level of comfort. Also, it was incredibly sexy. He wondered if she knew exactly how much it turned him on when she decided to be a little bit difficult. Maybe someday he'd tell her.

"I think you would have," he replied, "No doubt in my mind."

"Well," Olivia groaned, "Tomorrow I get the pleasure of breaking the news to Nick."

"The worst part of being in charge," Tucker muttered. "But it's better that he knows sooner rather than later. Better for you, too."

"Right. Still doesn't make it any easier."

"No, it doesn't." Tucker was glad he wasn't in her position. When he broke bad news to cops it was usually bad news they deserved. Whether or not Amaro deserved a promotion was a matter of debate, but Olivia had to deliver this crushing blow to her former partner. Ed didn't envy her one bit.

Their glasses were empty and Olivia asked for the check. "What are you up to tonight?" She asked casually, making small talk while the bartender ran her credit card.

"Game's on later. That's about it."

Olivia filled out the tip section on the receipt and signed. "This was good, Tucker."

"Yeah, it was. Keep me posted, alright?"

"Will do."

….

Tucker stared at the headline.

 _Blood Witness_.

Olivia was already worried that Braun's cross-examination cast doubt on the investigation, and now one crucial witness was killed at the hands of another. Johnny D's influence ran deep into the underworld. It looked like the state's case could potentially fall apart before the defense presented its witnesses. If the girls didn't testify, Evan Braun probably wouldn't need to call anyone. Tucker seethed. Everything seemed to be working against justice…and against Olivia.

He sent her a few texts and tried to be as encouraging as possible, but she was too pragmatic and too involved in the trial to be swayed much by pep talks. Noah's adoption was at stake, and Benson's best hope to counter Johnny D's plans to assert his parental rights was a conviction. However, Barba's case now rested on the testimony of abused, scarred young girls who were vulnerable to intimidation.

Tucker sent her one final optimistic text before he turned in for the night.

 _It'll all work out. You'll see. This time next week you'll be celebrating_.

….

"You were right," Olivia said as she handed Tucker a glass of bourbon and took a seat opposite him on the couch.

"Bout what?"

"It all worked out."

It had been over a week since Amaro put two bullets into Johnny D's chest and, knowingly or not, did Olivia one of the biggest favors of her life. Of course, it came at the cost of a painful recovery from the shots he took to his knee and torso, but, for once, Amaro's actions didn't attract heavy scrutiny. Tucker's investigation lasted about as long as it took him to walk with Olivia from the hospital waiting room to the elevator. She was going to stay until Nick was out of surgery. Tucker explained he would have to wait for ballistics and CSU to complete their investigation, but there was no question about what happened. Rollins was right. Johnny D committed suicide-by-cop.

Amaro's shots probably saved several lives and they certainly made Olivia's less complicated. When Olivia informed Tucker that Johnny D was dead, the first thought he had was not the public's reaction or Amaro's possible consequences. It was that the path to Noah's adoption was now free from impediments, and judging by the look on Olivia's face, she was thinking the same thing. The unspoken communication between them lasted only seconds, but those seconds were momentous. A court officer was dead. Judge Barth and another court officer suffered serious injuries. Yet, Olivia emerged as a recipient of the shiniest of silver linings.

In a few days, Noah would legally be her son.

And Tucker's prediction that she would be celebrating in a week was off by only a few days. To prepare and spend quality time with Noah, Olivia took a few vacation days, and she invited Tucker over for a drink on her first work-free night—a rainy Saturday.

"When do you see the judge?" Tucker asked.

"Wednesday."

"And that'll be it?"

Olivia nodded reflectively. "Yep."

He leaned over and touched his glass to hers, "Congratulations."

"Thanks. _And_ …thank you for your… _help_ —the exam, the trial, not busting Amaro's chops…" Olivia had trouble finding the words to express how much she appreciated Tucker as an ally; the strange new reality still baffled her.

 _Uh-oh_.

She gripped her glass so tightly she worried about it shattering in her hands. Tucker placed the glass carefully on a coaster and inched closer. He took her glass, put it next to his, and held her hands, rubbing his thumb lightly across her knuckles.

Olivia shivered at the first kiss—he barely brushed her lips with his, opened his eyes, and gazed at her, silently requesting permission to proceed.

" _Tucker_."

She felt his breath on her lips as he spoke. "I know what you're thinkin' and I know what you're going to say." He kissed her again, more firmly, pulled back, and kept talking. "And I've been thinking about it too, Olivia."

Another kiss.

Olivia stared into his eyes, his words rendered her stunned, nervous, excited, curious…almost desperate for him to kiss her again, _really_ kiss her, like she knew he'd wanted to do for a while.

Having accomplished one goal, to prove he wasn't a monster, Tucker set his sights higher. Only now he had to help her see that it would be possible to maintain their roles within the NYPD while simultaneously exploring a more intimate relationship.

"I know what you're worried about," Tucker said softly, confidently, his voice deep and raspy, "and I can't guarantee anything except…I want to figure it out with you. You've already done me a favor—letting the past be in the past, and we probably should talk about some of it—but there's more here, Olivia. I think you know that. _I know it_. No pressure. I just…I want to see you, know you…without having some work-related pretext. And I want you to know me, not the me you think I am, but—"

"You've changed," Olivia half-whispered.

"People change."

"They do."

She bit her lip and cast her eyes downward. Taking this as a signal to move forward, Tucker smoothed her hair back, guiding her head towards his. He met her lips with his mouth parted and wasted no time finding her tongue. He kissed her slowly, deliberately, carefully, tasting the bourbon, and, _her_. Undoubtedly there would be a time when he would be more aggressive, but this first deep, passionate kiss was not a prelude to torrid lovemaking, it was a foundation. Of course, they were nowhere near _love_ , but Ed intended, through this kiss, to make Olivia see and feel that falling in love with him was a possibility.

She kissed him back, and he believed it, too.

…

 _ **That concludes Season 16! Next will be Devil's Dissections and Criminal Pathology and the deets on the Tucker-Rita relationship!**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Devil's Dissections/Criminal Pathology**_ _— I'm going to need EVERY SINGLE NYPD employee who worked this case to report immediately to Dr. Lindstrom's office. Line up behind me. I'm typically immune to gore, but I may need a sesh or two to arm myself with some coping mechanisms. Remember the severed child's finger in Denial? Dr. Rudnick sees your finger and raises you three, no, four dismembered bodies, minus a thigh._

 _I KNEW there was something creepy about the Doc from the first time we met him in Spousal Privilege. I wonder if Jefferson Mays has trouble getting a date? Still, I have to agree with Carisi here. Yates made me want to run and hide under my bed with my legally registered handgun. Rudnick? Yes, Carisi, there IS something interesting about him. At least I'm not the only one who reacted that way…uh…I'm not, right? After all, Carisi is not a real person. Well, neither is Rudnick. Oh, never mind… And, btw, I don't actually own a handgun. Hubs thinks it's a bad idea._

 _I also thought it was kind of, uh…endearing? when Rudnick reprimanded Rollins and Carisi for eating the deeee-luxe breakfast platter (BACON!) as he nibbled on dry toast. The car ride back to NYC and Rollins' annoyance with her passengers was classic, as was Carisi trying to get his Apple Watch to work._

 _I'm glad they tossed us a bone regarding Doc Warner because I love, love, love, her and I'd like Tamara Tunie to abandon whatever it is she's currently working on and get back to SVU. Please and thank you. Oh, and fuck the powers that be for not promoting her. But haha because all the money they saved by Rudnick not putting in for overtime now fattens Melinda's pockets because, well, you don't have to be Rita Calhoun to call bullshit on Rudnick's autopsies. Every. Single. One. That sucks._

 _These two eps span early-mid June 2015. There is ZERO mention of Tucker or OMB prepping for the Lieutenant's exam, so I'm taking extreme liberties in the storytelling here. Sorry. It's better to ask for forgiveness than for permission. I learned that from Rollins._

…

"Tucker, what are we watching?"

"Office Space. Have ya seen it?"

"A long time ago, yes."

Tucker crouched in front of Olivia's television and inserted the DVD. "You wanted something far from serious. This fits the bill."

Olivia moved the iPad aside and stretched her legs out on the coffee table. She planted herself just to the right of center on the couch, forcing him to make the first important decision in their new _more-than-just-work-acquaintances_ existence.

"Where's your remote, Sergeant?"

Olivia glanced around. She didn't use the DVD player much at all, so if it wasn't next to the machine, she had no clue where it was. Ed looked around and ended up locating the remote among Noah's things. The sight of him rifling through the toddler's primary colored toys charmed Olivia; she looked on approvingly as he hunched over the toy box.

"Found it," he announced and sat down a few inches from her then immediately stood up again. "We forgot about the popcorn."

"There's a big bowl in one of the bottom cabinets," she called. Olivia heard him opening and closing cabinet doors and she tried to get a grip on the moment while staring at the screen.

 _Ed Tucker is in my kitchen. He brought popcorn. And a movie. A comedy._

Olivia tried not to overthink the significance of this pleasantly normal night; she tried not to be astonished that her contentment came courtesy of Lieutenant Tucker.

He returned with their snack and two beers. "To, uh, good thoughts," Ed said.

She smiled at him. "Cheers."

They watched and munched on handfuls of popcorn. The few times their fingers touched sent pleasant chills through both their bodies. Olivia snuck glances at Tucker when she heard him laugh, and he did the same when she broke into a chuckle. They'd known one another for over a decade, but laughter and genuine smiles were new and intriguing. Tucker found it difficult not to stare at her smile—there was something innocently attractive about it, as if she were just getting used to using the expression. Understandably, the joy on his face elicited sheer curiosity in Olivia who had previously known only his stern, clenched-jaw glare.

When the credits rolled, they both sank into the cushions, sharing unspoken disappointment their time together was coming to a close and thinking of ways to innocently prolong it.

"You want another drink?" Olivia asked.

Tucker thought he picked up a strain of hopefulness in her voice. "Uh, sure, if it's not too late."

"One more. If I'm in bed by midnight I'll be fine. Long day tomorrow though."

The thought of Benson in bed was a little too exhilarating for Ed and he tried to hide his flushed cheeks by swilling the last of his beer. Olivia poured two bourbons and he made sure to brush her hand as he reached up for his.

"More Yates tomorrow?"

"Yes, but he's…particular…he only opens up to Rollins for some reason. And…she's really a hard worker, but I'm worried about her getting _too_ close to him, ya know?"

Ed swallowed his first sip, grimacing slightly, "Yeah, on one hand ya want him to spill it, but on the other her judgment might be off. But, at the same time, if you trust her…" He trailed off.

"I'm not so sure I do."

"I understand."

Olivia leaned back and let out an exasperated breath and then a sarcastic, sulky laugh, "What a _day_."

"Is the worst part over?"

"You tell me. We recovered a dismembered body. Notified her twin sister. An unstable serial killer who we thought was set to rot in prison for the rest of his life is now back in the folds of another investigation." Olivia looked over at him expectantly.

 _She wants me to answer_.

"Doesn't sound like it," he replied regretfully. These conversations made Tucker apprehensive. He never knew if he should lie and offer a clichéd "it'll work out fine," or if he should be honest. He'd been going with the latter, figuring Benson was too experienced and savvy to fall for such trite platitudes.

"Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a regular nine-to-five job. Predictable. Like the people in the movie."

"Pros and cons," Ed replied, "But I think I would hate it."

"I probably would, too. But, there have been times when I…wanted something boring."

"Ah, I think you'd last in a boring job for about a week, maybe less. You're too good and too…dedicated to what you do."

"Dedicated?"

"Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen a more dedicated cop."

Olivia smirked at him, "And you've interrogated your fair share of them."

"That's the difference between you and most of the others, ya know."

"What is?"

"Almost every cop I investigate—they're motivated by somethin' despicable—greed, power…things like that. I never got that from you."

" _Wow_ ," Olivia mused, "That's not how I remember things playing out. I usually felt like the worst version of myself when you fired questions at me…even though I knew it wasn't true."

"I bring out the worst in people."

His conclusion wounded her more than her reflection injured him. "Tucker, it's—"

He held up a hand, "I do, Olivia, it's the truth. No sugar coating it."

"That must be difficult to admit."

"It is," he sighed, "But…I guess it's better than not realizing it. Especially when, like you said, cops like you, good cops, well-intentioned cops are sittin' in front of you and you know it and you go after them anyway. Sometimes, even when we cleared somebody, the consolation prize was that we, _I_ , sweated 'em hard and made them feel like shit. Almost like, if they were at IAB, they were guilty of something, even if we couldn't prove it, we're good at implying it so they doubt themselves."

His brutal honesty stunned her.

"For that," he said, sincere remorse in his eyes, "I'm sorry."

Benson stared at him slack-jawed, still speechless.

"I guess I sorta broke the rules about the no-seriousness night," he joked bashfully.

Olivia slid over and wrapped him in a tight hug before leaning back and looking into his eyes. Those _eyes_. So many times they'd shot menacing lasers in her direction that she'd missed how they sparkled in the dimmest light and could be soft and comforting, jovial and playful, sincere and apologetic, depending on the mood.

For the first time, she initiated the kiss, drawing his lips between hers with mild aggression to show she was serious about what she said next.

"You're forgiven," she said softly and repeated it for emphasis. "You're forgiven."

….

Benson took a call from Barba right before she left the office. After a chaotic week—the discovery of mummified remains, Rudnick's arrest and subsequent flight, Susie Frain's murder, the capture near the Canadian border—the time had come for legal wrangling. Rita Calhoun, Rudnick's attorney, wanted a generous plea deal which Barba refused to consider. He was taking the doctor to trial but wanted Olivia to understand the inevitable repercussions.

"You know, when he's convicted, every single case he's worked will be called into question," Barba warned in his clipped manner, "Is that a can of worms we want to open?"

Benson replied with steely resolve, "He tortured and dismembered who knows how many women? He does _not_ get a deal."

"That's what I told Calhoun."

"She has her work cut out for her."

"So do we."

Benson hung up and said goodnight to Rollins who was still seated at her desk poring over electronic files. Olivia retrieved Noah from day care and the two of them headed home. After dinner, she took him for a walk and to the park before bath time and story time. He was in bed by the time Lucy arrived. Benson, dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, left to meet Tucker for a much needed drink.

….

"Don't get too comfortable," he said as he slid a glass over to her. "We're not staying long."

"Oh?"

"You don't need to sit here and rehash this week, so, I thought we'd do somethin' a little different."

 _Tucker was handling her?_

Benson settled in next to Tucker, close enough so, at the slightest movement, their knees bumped. "What are we doing exactly?"

"You'll see."

"Am I over or under dressed?" She noticed he was in khakis and a lightweight sweater.

Tucker, smirking, sized her up. "You look great."

Olivia looked down coyly, "That's not what I asked, but thanks." She glanced up. His eyes were still on her. Time for a subject change. "You've been following the case?"

"The whole city has."

"Didja ever think somethin' was off with Rudnick?"

"I thought he was, um, odd, eccentric, but he's an _ME_."

"Cross dressing?"

"You shoulda seen his house," Benson replied with an incredulous grin, "Quite the wardrobe he had."

"I'll bet." Tucker took a large gulp. He seemed anxious to leave. "You start studying for the test yet?"

"I've been flipping through some things," she replied, "It seems pretty straightforward and similar to the Sergeant's exam."

"This one'll have more procedural and admin type of stuff on it, so I'd focus on that."

"Got it. Thanks."

"And," Tucker took a paranoid glance around, "Don't go to any of the online message boards. Somethin's up. And it's not good. But," he winked, "You didn't hear that from me."

"Noted."

Tucked placed a few bills next to his empty glass. "Ready?"

Olivia gulped the last of her bourbon and followed him out of the bar. He led her to his unmarked sedan which alleviated some of the anxiety Benson was harboring. Tucker's evasiveness about their evening plans and the way he almost leered at her when she asked about her attire caused her to worry he was taking her to his place. Her attraction to Tucker strengthened as they spent more time together, but she wasn't quite ready for physical intimacy. If she had to shut him down tonight, she wasn't sure their fledgling relationship would survive the awkwardness. The fact they had to drive to their destination meant they weren't going to his apartment; he lived only a few blocks away.

They arrived at Chelsea Piers and Tucker steered the car into a _City Employees Only_ space.

"C'mon," he said. "I reserved a thirty minute slot at the batting cages."

 _Batting cages?_

Tucker gave the attendant his name and they were pointed to the far end of the fieldhouse where they selected bats and waved away the offer of helmets.

"What speed you want, Benson? Slow?"

She shot him a sarcastic glare, "Maybe for you, but I think I can handle something a little more challenging."

Tucker shrugged, " _Okaaaayyy_. Don't feel ashamed if ya haveta ask them to dial it down."

"I'm really not concered about that," she retorted, taking a couple practice swings. "Ready?"

"Go ahead."

Benson proposed a bet, "We'll do, what? Ten pitches and switch? Keep track of best of ten? Loser buys dinner next time?"

"I'd love for you to buy me dinner. Deal."

Tucker and Benson cycled in and out of the cages, keeping tabs on who collected the most legitimate hits. When Tucker took his last turn, Benson paid only partial attention. Sure, she kept her eyes on his fit physique as he swung, but as their evening concluded and reality reappeared, she marveled at how she'd completely disconnected for the past half hour. That type of clarity always proved elusive, and she was glad to know it was still possible for her to get there.

Tucker stretched and grunted as he exited the cage for the last time. "I'm gonna feel this tomorrow," he muttered. "Do I at least get a free meal out of it?"

Benson checked the numbers she'd recorded on her phone. "How many did you hit that time?"

"Nine outta ten."

"No way."

"I'm serious," he boasted, "Weren't you watching? I was on fire in there."

Olivia grinned, "You needed to be perfect. I beat you by one."

" _What_?"

She showed him her calculations. "I won. Barely. But I won."

"Didn't we say you had to win by two?"

"No, I believe that's pick-up basketball scoring."

"Damn," he exhaled, feigning extreme disappointment, "Well, congratulations, Sergeant."

Olivia beamed. "This was fun, Tucker. Good stress reliever."

"Yeah it was," he quickly shed his sore loser persona. "Your hands hurt?" He noticed Olivia examining her palms.

"I think I'll have at least two blisters."

Tucker grabbed her wrists, inspected the palms, and kissed both, one after the other. As he moved from the left to the right hand, he suddenly worried it was maybe too intimate, perhaps he'd gone too far, but when he lifted his head and saw her face, he knew there was no need for regret.

"Have time for dessert?" He asked, emboldened.

What exactly did he mean by _dessert_?

"Uh, sure," Olivia replied, "Let me text Lucy to make sure."

…

Gelato in hand, they strolled from Columbus Circle toward Benson's neighborhood. The crowd thinned out as they got further west and it became easier to talk.

"So what's happening tomorrow?" Tucker asked.

"Rudnick's back at arraignment to plea to the additional charges," she reported matter-of-factly, "Who knows what Rita has up her sleeve. She's already obstructed justice once."

"She has?"

Benson recalled the encounter they had at Rudnick's home the day Susie Frain's body parts washed ashore. Calhoun had refused to allow them entrance without a warrant and didn't buy their exigent circumstances argument. "Legally, she was in the right, but, considering what we'd just found…she was…sticking a little too closely to the letter of the law."

Olivia expected him to support Calhoun's by-the-book attitude. After all, he was never sympathetic to SVU's do-anything-to-catch-the-perp mentality. However, his thoughts were elsewhere. Mention of Rita reminded Tucker of the day after William Lewis shot himself. Benson, shell shocked and obviously traumatized, had just stunned both Draper and Tucker with her explanation of why she wasn't raped by Lewis when Calhoun burst in and ended the interview. The encounter was uncomfortable then _and now_.

Benson apparently sensed his uneasiness.

"You two have some type of history, right?" Benson wasn't trying to be mischievous. Quite the opposite. She wanted whatever happened between the two of them out in the open.

"Yeah," Tucker replied hesitantly, "We went out a few times. Didn't last long. I'm sure she mentioned that." He silently berated himself for getting defensive. That last sentence came out more harshly than he'd intended.

"She did."

"What else did she say?"

"Nothing. Just that it wouldn't affect her work."

"It wasn't good," Tucker muttered, trying to redeem himself for the earlier acrimony. "The two of us, that is. I'm sure her work was great."

"Why wasn't it good?"

Tucker looked at her pleadingly. Clearly, he didn't want to talk about this. "She never stopped being a lawyer. Talking was like trying to make a case. It was never gonna work."

"I was kind of surprised when she told me," Benson said lightheartedly.

"Why's that?"

"Thinking about you seeing someone was new to me."

Tucker smiled shyly, "I'm not a robot, Sergeant."

Olivia smiled back. Every time their conversation forced her to be straightforward, she inevitably said something that, although true, ended up landing as an insult. Tucker had every right to be frustrated and walk away, but he rolled with the punches and calmly helped her see his perspective.

"Did she have anything to do with you trying to get me to lie?"

Tucker screwed up his face, "Of course not. We were trying to help you."

"I thought you were setting me up."

"I know. That's understandable."

They meandered along slowly, wading through the sensitive subjects they'd unintentionally broached. The gelato cups and spoons had been deposited in trash cans. Tucker longed to hold her hand, but Benson kept a safe distance between the two of them and she was clutching the straps of her bag anyway.

 _Someday_.

"Are you, uh, well, I—" Tucker stammered, unsure if this was the right time to say what he was going to say. Olivia stopped and peered at him, her eyes narrow and interested. "I think, Sergeant, you're remarkably resilient and… _strong_. Not many people could do what you did—not just go back to the job but go back and _command_ a unit. And do it well."

Olivia deflected most of the flattery, "I don't know how _well_ I'm doing."

Tucker simpered at her modesty, "Aw, don't do that. You got Yates, got Johnny D, now you're ridding Manhattan of a psychopath in the ME's office. You're practically cleaning up the city on your own."

Olivia blushed. " _Stop_."

Tucker shrugged innocently, "Just an observation."

"And the Rudnick case is far from over."

"Matter of time." They started walking again. "How long do you think the trial will last?"

"We'll know tomorrow. Barba thinks they'll file a motion to separate the charges, but, no matter what happens, I can't imagine a jury will see what he did and let him walk."

"You're confident. That's good."

"I seem to be the only one."

"Well, if things get dicey, call me and we'll go double or nothin' at the cages again."

Olivia cocked her head, "Are you trying to get out of buying dinner?" She joked.

"Not at all."

They approached Benson's building. Tucker waited for the familiar nervousness, but it didn't come. Their past two outings had gone so well, and he was suddenly confident, knowing he didn't have to wait for an excuse to see her again.

"Well, let me know how everything goes," he said casually.

"Will do," she replied cheerfully. "Thanks again for tonight."

"No problem." He leaned in and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. Unassuming. Nonthreatening. Casual. Like he'd been kissing her forever. "You want to do something this weekend?"

"Yeah, I do," she replied softly, "But, my sitter's going out of town, so—"

Tucker shrugged, "We'll do something with the little guy. Maybe lunch? Outside somewhere? It's supposed to be nice." He hoped he wasn't being too presumptuous.

"I'm sure he'd like to see you again," she said, "sounds like a plan."

"Good." He reached for her hand and kissed her cheek. "G'night."

…..

"I'm going out for lunch," Olivia announced as she passed through the squad room, "I'll be back in an hour."

"You want some company, Sarge?" Carisi asked, inducing eye rolls from Rollins and Fin.

"No," she replied tersely. "See ya later."

Tucker was waiting for her at the Chinese restaurant, and he stood when she walked in. "Hey," he greeted her softly and gallantly pulled out a chair. "Glad you could make it. Thought court would last longer."

Olivia brushed stray strands of hair out of her face, "So did I. Rudnick took a plea at the last minute. Carisi and Rollins found incriminating video evidence. Irrefutable. He had no choice."

"Great."

"A little anti-climactic. We shoulda found it earlier. Would've saved a lot of time and effort." Ed just smirked at her. " _What_?"

Even when she got a win, she was still trying to be better. There was that dedication again. It turned him on.

"Nothin,'" he replied, trying to sound indifferent, "Except for…congratulations. Another win for NYPD."

Olivia regarded him skeptically—she was too sharp for him to completely deceive her—but she opted not to press him further. They ate lunch and Olivia griped about Rollins' solo journey to Green Haven which she'd found out about only at trial. From the look Barba gave her during testimony, she assumed he'd dispatched her. Tucker advised Benson to ignore the subversion for now, and she agreed.

"Especially," she said, lowering her voice, "Since she's got enough stress in her life right now. She's pregnant. But, uh, keep that to yourself for the time being. She's not ready for desk duty just yet."

She immediately felt guilty for betraying Rollins' confidence _and_ asking Tucker to overlook the information, not that he was the one who made the call about restricted duty.

Tucker didn't know Rollins well enough to understand the detective's situation. "She married?" He asked.

"No."

"That's tough."

"Yeah, it will be," Olivia said, "Hey, I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have said anything. I don't want to put you in a bad spot."

Tucker simply took another bite. "She won't be able to hide it for long," he concluded matter-of-factly.

"Even so—"

"Olivia," he said firmly, "It's not a big deal. Don't worry about it." He noticed she'd stopped eating. "You gonna eat that egg roll?"

"No."

He plucked the half-eaten roll from her plate. "They have the best egg rolls here," he commented, looking at it approvingly.

"You can tell a difference?"

"Absolutely. You can't?"

"No—I'm quite sure all deep fried cabbage tastes the same."

"Uh-uh," he disagreed, "These are the best. They put shrimp and pork in them. And the duck sauce—"

"Tucker, every Chinese place has these duck sauce packets."

"Oh," he smiled, "Well, doesn't change my main argument. These are the best."

Olivia's phone pinged. She furrowed her brow as she read the message from Rollins. "I have to go," she said, "Have a teenage vic at the hospital. Possible hate crime."

Tucker chewed and waved away the money Olivia held out for him. "On me. But this isn't the dinner I owe you," he added."

"Oh good," she replied, "Because I worked hard for that."

"Yes you did."

"Sorry I have to run out of here."

Tucker sat back in his chair, wiped his mouth, and gazed at her affectionately, more so than ever before. His tone toed the line between confident and cocky, and his parting words included a subtle wink.

"I'll see you again soon, Sergeant."

Olivia nodded and darted from the restaurant, finding it extremely difficult to get into cop mode with Tucker's last sentence playing on a loop in her head.

…..

 _FYI: The Tucker-Rita (NO! I AM NOT GIVING THEM A CUTE SHIP NAME) relationship was in a script spoiler, not in the actual episode._

 _Next we will jump to August: Institutional Fail and then Community Policing. And we all know what that means! Benson gets promoted and TUCKER IN A POLO!_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Institutional Fail**_ _—The apathy in this episode is disgusting. How many people saw little Bruno as he made his way from his apartment to the bodega AND DID NOTHING? I want to tell kids playing on my street to get the hell in the house (not in those exact words, of course) as soon as the sun starts going down and a four-year-old can walk through the projects unnoticed in the middle of the night. Double Yoo. Tee. EFF._

 _Also, um, NOBODY NOTICED KEISHA SUFFERING OR MISSING? Or even noticed that Mama was struggling again and thought to help? Shit's fucked up and even MORE fucked up because it happens every day and even MORE MORE fucked up because there's not a "Renegade Rafael" Barba in every DA's office…btw he really pissed me off with that "maternal outrage" comment to OMB and Rollins. Geeeeez, Barba, hope Abuela didn't hear that up in heaven 'cuz if she did, Felipe Heredio isn't your only problem._

 _I could go on and on, but y'all don't care. Chief Dodds was yucky at the beginning and an ass at the end—yeah, yeah, Benson I saved your promotion, but, heeeeeeeere's Junior. I also thought it was interesting that he is perfectly fiiiiiiiine with Benson staying at SVU when she could have any command in the city but for Junior? Uh-uh. Up and out._

 _ **Community Policing-**_ _Before_ _ **#**_ _Tuckson became canon, my favorite ep and still one of my fave eps OF THE ENTIRE SERIES. Gray gray gray gray. Relevant. The writers and actors did an amazing job making ALL characters seem at least a tiny bit worthy of sympathy. I do wish we could see the resolution to the indictments and I REALLY DO WISH FOR THE RETURN OF THE LOGUE._

 _The shared moment between OMB and Tucker at IAB, the look of dread after Tucker gets the DNA info, they were three feet apart, but I'm sorry, that was hotttttttttttttttttt._

 _Tanned Tucker in a polo._

 _My husband wears polos every day and he doesn't look like that._

 _But I pretend he does._

 _ **Shhhhhhhhhhh**_.

…...

Toddler swing selection was at a premium Saturday morning, but Benson did her best to ignore the hopeful eyes of other parents hovering nearby. It wasn't a difficult task. Noah squealed with delight and kicked his legs with each gentle push. DeWitt Clinton Park teemed with small children and their parents; idyllic family chatter, like something out of a movie, filled the air. A hint of humidity blanketed the city and portended an uncomfortable afternoon, but the sun was still rising, peeking through the eastern tree line and obstructed by a few nimbus clouds. Olivia looked around at the crowd, content to blend in among other parents seeking to milk the mild morning temperatures before retreating to the air conditioning.

Earlier, she lounged in bed, wide awake before even Noah stirred, processing the week. Fundraiser with Dodds. Bruno. Keisha. Hank Abraham and One PP passing the buck. Barba, initially reluctant, taking the moral high ground and probably risking his job to prosecute the caseworkers and the deputy commissioner.

Upon leaving Abraham's office, Benson felt caged. Constricted. As a detective, if Cragen had been told to stand down, she and Stabler or she and Amaro would have surreptitiously pursued leads; now, as the soon-to-be Lieutenant, she didn't have the luxury of flouting orders from her superiors, even if it was the right thing to do. Surprisingly, Barba's decision obviated the need for her to prematurely butt heads with the Chief and the Commissioner. Still, they had to feed him evidence, and her detectives were working through the weekend to harvest it.

The boss was taking the day off.

Olivia cringed slightly, her grimace barely noticeable, when Tucker propelled Noah higher than she usually pushed him. Unfazed, Noah simply flung his head back to catch the breeze and kicked his legs harder, quelling his mother's temporary anxiety.

"Will you hold this?" She held out her coffee, "I want to go around and get some pictures of him."

"Sure." He took the cup but intentionally grabbed her hand and gave her a peck on the lips before she had time to scan the area for spies.

Blushing, and a little shaky at the knees, she made her way to the other side of the swing set and snapped photos of her beaming son being sent towards her by Ed Tucker who knew he'd be in the shot but did his best to seem oblivious.

Her text woke him up earlier that morning. It was just after seven when he heard the phone ping and vibrate. Expecting police business, he shot up and swiped the phone from his nightstand only to lie back down again when he read the message.

 _Taking Noah to the park in a couple hours. Want to join?_

The seconds he waited in order to not seem overeager were agonizing.

 _Sure. I'll bring coffee_.

Olivia returned to his side, phone in hand, wanting to show him the pictures. They let the momentum swing Noah for a bit. She flipped through the shots and Tucker put a hand across her back, making only light contact, but she easily felt his touch through her light t-shirt. Pretending not to notice, Olivia continued the brief slide show, stepping away only out of obligation to Noah. Taking a cue from Tucker, she sent him forward with both hands, more forcefully than she'd done before. Tucker took a snap of her in profile with Noah on the backswing, his face level with hers. Mother and son wore matching smiles.

….

"Didja eat?" Tucker asked as they walked through the park gates and onto the sidewalk.

"Noah did," Olivia replied.

Tucker checked his watch. "Wanna get a late breakfast? Early lunch? Brunch?"

"Maybe some place where we can sit outside?" Olivia suggested, "It's not too brutally hot yet."

"Sure."

On the way to their destination, Noah dozed off in the stroller. At Tucker's pub of choice they chose a partially shaded table and parked Noah so he was behind them and out of the sun's rays. They sat at a small round table, not exactly across from one another, so they could simultaneously people watch and converse.

"You gonna have a drink?" Tucker asked, perusing the menu.

"Yeah, why not?" she replied.

He tapped her elbow with the back of his hand, "Especially since we should be celebrating."

Wide-eyed, she turned to face him, "You know?"

"Of course I know. I saw the Lieutenant's list. And Dodds told me."

"He did?"

"Yeah," Tucker recalled proudly, "Said you were in the top five percent. And, even better, you weren't in the retake group, not that you woulda been under suspicion."

Allegations of cheating on the Lieutenant's Exam recently plagued the NYPD. Tucker's heads up to Benson about avoiding online study forums was based on whistleblowers' intel. Someone was posting answers to the exam online, and candidates who took make-up tests at later dates had their results heavily scrutinized.

"That's going to be a mess," Olivia mused.

"Yup. But," Tucker said brightly, "It's somebody else's problem now. So, what are we drinkin?"

Their beers arrived promptly, and they toasted Olivia's impending promotion. Tucker clarified that this outing was _not_ the official promotion celebration at which Olivia smiled coyly.

"I'll believe it when I get the official notification," she said humbly.

Tucker feigned being offended, "I'm not _official_ enough?"

Olivia shook her head shamefully.

" _What_?"

She took a deep breath, shifted in her chair, checked on Noah…all to delay responding. "I know you're kidding, but it seems like," she began slowly, "I'm very good at unintentionally insulting you."

"I haven't noticed."

" _Right_ ," she scoffed.

Tucker had to find a way to tell her he enjoyed her feistiness without letting on he found it incredibly sexy. "I don't expect you to _not be you,_ Benson. If ya know what I mean."

She nodded, accepting his reasoning. "So what else did Chief Dodds tell you?"

"That you had a nice time at the fundraiser."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "He said that?"

"Yeah," he grinned, "I take it you feel otherwise?"

Olivia hadn't thought about the event much due to the fact they caught the Ozuna case that night and the entire week had been consumed with caring for Bruno, finding his mother, mourning his sister, and digging into child services' records. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but the political piece of this job is…a challenge for me. Dodds is a natural."

"I told you," Tucker said with derision, "he's a politician. He always has been. But, he said that you _two_ had a nice night."

Olivia forced a hesitant laugh, "I'm sure he thought we did. At least he took the night off from busting my chops, which he's been doing since I took over."

"He's always gonna be a pawn of the brass, and of Abraham."

"I hope that doesn't have to happen to me."

"Me neither," Tucker commiserated, "Which is why I'm a little reluctant to take the Captain's exam."

Olivia gaped at him, "You are?"

"There's a shortage," Tucker explained. In New York, the rank of Captain didn't necessarily equate to a better command. Captains did not earn overtime, were expected to be even more involved in administration and politics, and could be shuffled around at a moment's notice. The test was also notoriously difficult. "So I told 'em I'd do it only if I got to choose where I go after. Handshake agreement, but, it's a deal."

She wanted to joke that he was taking the test just so he could stay a step ahead of her in rank, but she bit her tongue. "Have you started studying?"

"Nah."

"Are you going to study?"

"I'll look over a few things," he replied confidently.

Noah started fussing. The stroller was positioned in such a way that Tucker had a better angle to pick him up. He did, and instead of passing Noah to his mother, he sat him in his lap and gently bounced him up and down. "Good nap, bud?"

Noah looked at Olivia through sleepy eyes and reached out for her. She kissed both his hands, but let him remain with Tucker. "Here's your juice, sweet boy." Noah took his cup and leaned back against Tucker's chest, slowly shaking off his drowsiness.

Tucker noticed a hint of sorrow in Olivia's gaze. "Somethin' the matter?" He asked, clearly concerned.

"This has been a tough week," she said. "I don't know what's worse—those kids being completely neglected or the city turning a blind eye." He wasn't sure how to respond and they both stared at Noah. Olivia continued in her reflective voice, a tone, Tucker noticed, she'd been using more and more with him. Though her words were tinged with anguish, he appreciated her increasing willingness to be open. "For years, I thought about being a mother. I didn't think it would happen. At a few points, I really would've given anything to have a child. Then this little guy came along, right out of nowhere," she reached over and grabbed Noah's leg, brushing Tucker's thigh the process, "I'm so lucky. But there are so many kids who aren't lucky, and they get trapped in the cycle—foster care, neglect, abuse, and they become adults who struggle…there aren't enough success stories, and it just _continues_."

Once again, Tucker avoided platitudes. "Noah's lucky," he said softly, "He'll never know any of that."

Olivia smiled gratefully, "It's so hard," she said. "I remember, the first night I had him, sitting with him in the rocking chair wondering how on Earth I was going to pull this off but also being so incredibly happy."

"You look happiest when you're with him."

"I am," she sighed, took a drink of her beer, and hoped Tucker wouldn't misconstrue what she was going to say next. "And I've come to realize, that…I'm also happy when I'm with you."

Olivia worried Tucker would think she was trying to somehow acknowledge competition between him and Noah, but she was clearly overthinking. Tucker rarely expressed any type of shock or surprise, but he gaped at her now. His sparkling blue eyes, however, betrayed his delight at what she'd just said.

"Me too," he croaked.

"Even when we're talking about the job," she said, "I can disconnect when we're together."

Tucker was grateful that Noah dropped his cup just then; it bought him some time. _What to say? What to say?_ He couldn't go with _me too_ again.

"It's, uh, nice we could get to this point."

"It is."

Noah's toddler babbles filled the somewhat-awkward silence, and he dropped his cup again, giggling at the game he was playing with Tucker.

"So, back to your _promotion_ , where ya wanna go for dinner?"

She smiled, aware her flattery flustered him. "How about you surprise me?" She thought about the batting cages, the impromptu babysitting, and last week, when he showed up at the precinct late one night with coffee and a cupcake. "You're pretty good at that."

…..

"Good night, Lieutenant."

Chief Dodds shot her a sly half-smile and left the office. Olivia slumped into her chair. _Lieutenant_. Lieutenant Olivia Benson. It was official.

But the promotion came with a caveat.

Dodds' son was her number two. A big NYPD thank-you for doing the right thing in the despite an administration which wanted the ugly truth swept under the rug.

A spy.

If Rollins hadn't still been there, Benson would have put her head on the desk. Why couldn't something in her life be easy? Did absolutely everything have to come with problems attached? Judge Linden placed Noah with her, but Olivia spent a year at the mercy of Ms. Jackson. As Sergeant, she took command of the unit only to be faced again with William Lewis. She passes the Lieutenant's exam, almost loses out on the promotion, and not only did she now owe Chief Dodds for saving it but she got to "supervise" his son as her new Sarge. Personally, she and Tucker continued to get closer, but as their romantic feelings for one another grew, so did her anxiety about where exactly they were headed and what that would mean for both their careers.

Tucker.

She re-read his last text.

 _Sorry about tonight. I'm still on the scene_. _Will call later._

Earlier that evening, an inmate died in a holding cell at another precinct. The reported cause of death was suicide, but investigators immediately noticed the officers' stories didn't match what investigators found when they arrived. Due to the child services case and trial, she and Tucker hadn't seen each other since the morning at the park and lunch at the pub. With Rollins on desk duty, the squad was now severely short-staffed and Olivia was exhausted. At the very, _very_ least, Dodds Junior, could pick up some of the slack, but it would still be a couple weeks before he arrived and even then it would take some time for him to adjust.

Olivia practically had to drag Rollins from her desk. "C'mon, Amanda," she said, "Let's go. I'll drop you at home."

"I think I'll stay a while," Rollins replied, sounding distant.

"Why don't we get a coffee or a cup of tea or something?" Olivia said, "I have a little time before I have to be home."

"Thanks, Sarge, but I really feel like being alone right now."

Olivia didn't bother to correct her rank, "At least let me take you home."

"Alright," she reluctantly agreed and stood up with effort. "If you insist."

….

Tucker left IAB after midnight and considered paying Olivia an unannounced visit. He was fine with taking things slowly, but lately she'd been so busy she'd barely had time to stop at home for a few hours with Noah let alone go out on dates with him. As he drove he reconsidered his thoughts. No, he was actually _not_ fine with taking things slowly. He badly wanted Benson. At the very least he wanted to kiss her more, feel her body against him, touch her in places he hadn't touched, and whisper in her ear that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He wanted more everything—more time, more Noah, more _her_.

Their conversation over lunch last weekend only intensified his desire because she finally hinted that she wanted him, too. He made her happy. He helped her disconnect. She allowed him to start forging a bond with her son. Recently, each outing included morsels of personal information. Last weekend it was about her desire to be a mother. They'd danced around the edges of the William Lewis horror; he wondered if and when she would talk about that. He envisioned holding her in his arms as she revealed the darkest depths of her soul. She would cry, sob maybe, and he would just hold her tighter, listen, and offer assurances that he would never let anything bad happen to her ever again.

 _Alright, Tucker, now you're going a little over the top_.

But he had to prod them forward, even if it was a little risky, even if it wasn't _everything_ in one fell swoop.

He did tell her he'd call. It was late, but Ed Tucker was a man of his word.

Her groggy voice sent erotic ripples through his entire body. "Hey," she rasped.

"Hi, uh, sorry to wake you up, but-"

"You did say you'd call."

"I did."

Olivia cleared her throat, "Long night for you."

"Yeah it was."

"Oh," she sounded more alert, "You'll never guess who our new Sarge is."

"Who?"

"Dodds' _son_."

"You're kidding," he said dryly, a little pissed Dodds was doing this to her.

"No, I'm not. Do you know him?"

"Not very well, but I've met him. Seemed ok then, but…" Tucker trailed off, not wanting to say _he_ wouldn't trust anyone related to Chief Dodds. No need to cloud her first impressions.

"But what?"

 _Damn_. "Nothin,' I, uh, they're putting him there for a _reason."_

"Dodds made it sound like a favor, that it was the only way they'd promote me after I'd, uh, cooperated with Barba."

"That may be, but it doesn't mean there's not more to it."

"Good point."

"Remember," he urged with some familiar IAB-ness, "it's _your_ squad."

"Another good point."

"I seem to be full of them tonight. Or…you're tired and want to get off the phone?"

Olivia made a noise, a cross between a laugh and a cough, "I _am_ tired, but I don't necessarily want to hang up."

"How 'bout we say goodnight now and I'll see you for drinks tomorrow night?"

"Do you mean tonight? Or, tomorrow?"

"I guess tonight."

"Ok," she said, sleep returning to her voice, "I'll see you later."

….

Drinks didn't happen. The next time Tucker saw the overextended now-Lieutenant was at the hospital the next day. On the drive over he prepared himself to see her for the first time in over a week. He tried to conjure his usual steely, uncompromising demeanor, but it was a struggle. For the first time in a very long while, he would initiate an investigation as a slightly watered-down version of himself. As soon as he walked through the hospital doors he saw her clad in a black leather jacket and midnight blue blouse. He took a deep breath and exhaled as he walked towards her.

"Tucker, what do you sleep with a radio under your pillow?"

"I don't have to," he grumbled, looking at his phone and thinking he was maybe trying a little too hard to maintain professionalism in her presence, "Police shoot another young black man, word travels."

When Benson mediated his verbal sparring with Didi Denzler, she touched his arm ever so slightly before retracting, as if she caught herself a millisecond before crossing a line neither one of them had officially drawn but tacitly acknowledged.

After informing Captain Reece that Donlan, Campesi, and Dume would best serve their precinct by talking to IAB as soon as possible, Tucker took a call and walked out. When he returned, the room was silent except for monitors beeping and Terrence Reynolds' mother weeping against her husband's chest. Tucker found Ms. Denzler who assured him the officers would be at IAB first thing tomorrow morning with their attorneys. Olivia was talking to someone on the phone, and Tucker made sure she saw him waiting for her. She hung up and joined him.

"I'm gonna take off," he said, almost whispering. "You need anything?"

Olivia sighed, "No…Carisi has the warrant to search his apartment…Fin's still trying to lean on witnesses for video." She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "I'll walk out to the car with you," she said, "I need to get out of here for a minute."

Outside, Olivia removed her jacket and frowned, "Ugh, it's so muggy. I guess it was better in there." She glanced back at the building.

Tucker bought himself some time, "C'mon. Come sit with me for a minute. I'll turn the AC on."

Inside the car, Olivia adjusted the vents and funneled the cool air so it was blowing directly on her. Strands that had escaped her ponytail blew wildly around her face.

"This is going to be a mess," she muttered.

"We'll see them tomorrow. Think you finally got him?" Tucker meant the elusive push-in rapist.

Olivia's eyes remained closed and her face was inches from the vents. "Let's hope so."

Her phone vibrated, she silenced it and put it back in her pocket. "I don't have much time," she said, "that was Fin. He got one phone and is bringing it and the owner back to the precinct."

"Well, then—" Tucker grabbed her by the back of the neck, brought her to him, and kissed her. Startled, it took her a minute to adjust to his mouth on hers, but when she relaxed and returned the kiss with fervor, Tucker turned up the intensity. Gasps filled the small space as Tucker deepened the kiss, relishing how Olivia playfully fought back against the force of his tongue. He paused briefly only to move away from the steering wheel and pressed her against the passenger door. Before resuming the make-out session, Tucker stared into her eyes, then down at her lips, now smeared with the light gloss she'd been wearing, and then back to her eyes again. He traced the line of her cheekbones with his index finger, and, with the other hand, cupped and squeezed one of her breasts over her shirt, tentatively at first, until he was sure it was something she wanted.

She stroked the back of his head with her fingertips and returned his gaze. "Hey there," She whispered, a glint in her eye.

"Olivia, you're so beautiful."

She pulled him back to her, and he collapsed, as much as he _could_ collapse on the bench seat of a Crown Vic, on top of her. He switched to a gentle, slow, methodical kiss, savoring the taste, memorizing the contours of her mouth. He balled the hem of her shirt, untucking it, so he could feel her skin and she moaned unto his mouth as he worked his hand under her bra.

" _Tucker_."

He sucked lightly at her neck while simultaneously exploring under her shirt, teasing at the waist of her pants, remembering she and he both wore holstered Glocks.

Olivia had to go. She had to work. But Tucker's hands were on her and his caresses felt so soothing, so strong and powerful yet incredibly tender and maybe a bit...appreciative? There was yearning in his kiss, insistence, she could tell he wanted to tell her something he couldn't put into words, but it wasn't difficult to decipher the meaning in his actions. Things between them were changing, right now; in this _unmarked cruiser_ of all places, Tucker took control and made it glaringly obvious that he wanted to be… _hers_.

"Tucker, I have to go," she whispered reluctantly.

"I know." He knew, but he continued kissing her. Neck. Chin. Throat. He slid her blouse aside and went for the shoulder. Collarbone. Back to her lips.

"I want to see you again. Soon."

"Me too. I still owe you dinner. A _real_ dinner."

"Even if it's not dinner."

He stopped and looked her in the eyes. "Tomorrow?" He asked hopefully.

"Tomorrow."

He dragged himself off her and adorably tried to re-tuck her shirt, but she graciously mumbled "I got it" and used the visor mirror to fix her makeup and hair.

"You look gorgeous in that color," he said.

"You probably do, too."

"I'm sorry this night was so awful for you."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, "It is. But not this part," her phone was vibrating again, but she leaned over for one last kiss and lingered on his lips for a few extra seconds. "Ok. Back to reality."

"Need a lift back to the precinct?"

"No, I'm going back up to see Reece first."

Seconds later, she was out of the car. She turned to look at him longingly before disappearing through the sliding glass doors. The anguish that clouded her face earlier had returned. Tucker commiserated with her, but he took solace knowing he was capable of making that job-related suffering go away.

…

Olivia went through the motions of her evening routine feeling unbearably heavy. Earlier that day she testified at the grand jury proceedings, and even though she'd answered Barba's questions honestly, she had been evasive, _political_ , and it felt so unlike her. She could not remember a case so muddled, so gray, so devoid of any sense of justice or any semblance of a silver lining. Police work very seldom resulted in clean, clear resolutions, but this case caused Olivia to question the very essence of her career—how could _procedure_ -tried and true police procedures—lead only to skepticism and derision? How could she feel content repeating _in my opinion, all police procedures were followed_ when Terrence Reynolds' family was planning his funeral and SVU was no closer to catching the push-in rapist?

Despite thinking she wanted to be alone, she told Tucker to come by. He offered to bring food, but she didn't feel like eating. Instead, she poured a glass of wine, set the bottle and another glass on the table, and unlocked the door.

It was obvious she was exhausted, stressed, and frustrated. After kissing her hello, Tucker settled into a corner of the couch and motioned for her to sit with him. She reclined against his chest and he held her as she rehashed and lamented the entire week from the moment they were called to the Harris apartment to today's indictments.

"Why did he have to run," Olivia's question was rhetorical and Tucker responded only by running his hand and up and down her arm. "And how do we explain that to his parents? To the city? We can't convince them that this was anything more than an execution—the cell phone video, that's not the angle they had, they were in hot pursuit, it was dark, they're in one of the most dangerous areas in the city, a place where people already hate cops."

"Hey," Tucker softly interrupted her, "Sometimes you can do everything right and things still turn out horribly wrong. It, unfortunately, comes with what we do. We're _people_ , Olivia, and we follow training, protocol, but it's never one-hundred percent foolproof."

Of course she knew this, but she appreciated him trying to console her. She let out a long, deep sigh. "Try explaining that to his family. Or the officers' families for that matter."

"It _has_ been explained. It's not a good answer. But it _is_ the answer."

"Would you have emptied your clip?"

"Both Cole and I said we would have, but, I wasn't in the heat of the chase, it's impossible to say for sure."

"I can't talk about the grand jury," Olivia complained, "But it was…tense…in there with Barba."

Tucker grunted, "I'm sure he grilled you about the number of shots fired. He asked us about it, too."

"He did?"

"Man, he sure is thorough. He watched the tapes from beginning to end. Noticed we cut one of 'em short and turned off the camera."

"Why'd you do that?"

"They'd been told exactly what to say, word for word, and Cole and I made it clear that we noticed."

"Am I on the right side of things here?" Olivia wondered out loud.

Tucker furrowed his brow. "I don't think this is that type of case, Lieutenant. You're gonna go crazy if you try to answer that question."

As Olivia let that sink in, she traced little circles on the top of Tucker's hand. "Thank you for listening to me vent. I'm sure this wasn't the type of evening you were looking for."

"The only thing I was looking for was to see you."

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it sensually. "Next week Dodds-the-son arrives."

"I can't wait to hear about it."

She forced a little laugh, "I bet. I have an open mind…but I haven't forgotten what you said."

Tucker felt a cliché was appropriate, "It'll work out," he said, "And you won't be stretched so thin."

Olivia twisted around so she faced him. "And we can finally have that dinner you've been talking about."

"Yeah," he replied, "I'm lookin' forward to that."

"Tucker?"

"Yeah?"

"Should we tell somebody about us?"

"There's no reason to. Is that what you want?"

"It's complicated."

"I know."

She sat up and took his hands, "I want to keep it between us for now, if that's ok with you."

"I understand."

"It's—"

" _Olivia_ ," he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I _un-der-stand_."

"It's not like I want to sneak around, I—"

He smirked at her, " _Lieutenant_. How 'bout you just kiss me and we can talk about it later?"

He played with her hair.

"When it's not so late?"

He kissed her cheek.

"When you're not so exhausted?"

He kissed the other cheek.

"When—"

Now _he_ was talking too much. They fell back against the couch cushions, locked in an embrace, kissing and whispering and locking eyes before things calmed down and Olivia rested her head against him, soaking up the comfort he provided, still not quite sure exactly where they were headed, but, for what seemed like the first time in her life she realized her career and her personal life did not necessarily have to be codependent. And maybe that was part of her hesitation about disclosure. Since she and Tucker embarked on their friendship, and now, more-than-friendship, her job had presented her with every heart wrenching, agonizing, infuriating case society could throw at her. Yet, when Tucker was around, it was so easy to put all of that aside and be _with_ him. There was something in his very presence that eliminated the ugly background noise of her job and allowed her to focus on her, on Noah, on _them_. Even when, like tonight, police talk was unavoidable, he made her feel better, refreshed, reenergized…secure.

Tucker was quickly becoming her rock, and she hadn't noticed until now.

She'd spent her entire life supporting others; having someone support her was so foreign and unfamiliar, she almost missed it.

Almost.

…..

 _These are running too long, I know. I will do better. #Tuckson #Sept21_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Maternal Instincts**_ — _In all the eps involving Rollins' southern roots, the writers seem to have had a field day with the southern stereotype. I am not, I repeat, am_ _ **NOT**_ _a native southerner, but I do wonder what my native friends think about this._

 _Once again, I have to throw a gigantic_ _ **WTF?**_ _at Rollins. SERIOUSLY? As I've said in a previous A/N, sissy pooh burned all family courtesy WHEN SHE CLEARED OUT AMANDA'S APARTMENT…oh, and also when she got her to kill Jeff…oh, and also when she forged her name on a life insurance policy…oh, and when she almost caused Rollins to lose her badge. IMO, the only thing good about Kim Rollins is that, in Deadly Ambition, her nutsoness let us see a hella lot of Tucker, and for that I am eternally grateful._

 _Call me a glutton for punishment but I kind of hope that conniving beeeotch is coming back in S18. I mean, we have to have that trial at some point, right?_

 _Benson handled the whole thing with grace, though, for reasons I think are quite obvious and are addressed in the fic so I'll shut up about that._

 _By the end of the episode, I almost liked Baby Dodds. Oh, and I lovvvvved (cue 10 heart emojis) when Benson basically told Fin to STFU about him._

 _Even though I wanted to throat punch Mama Rollins….I am open to her remedy for healing sisterly angst._

 _Cocktail, anyone?_

 _ **Patrimonial Burden**_ _—Another one (like Assaulting Reality) that would have been more comical had it not been so…icky. This ep was weirdness from start to finish—IDK about everyone else, but the Virginity Celebration Ceremony at the beginning, at least for me, presented a wide possibility of perps ranging from the father himself to the pastor (eventual bad guy) to the camera man to the YOUNGEST brother. Ok, not the baby, but you get my point. At the Eldon-Baker wedding ceremony I really thought the Baker parents were going to tell the cops to shove their DNA where the sun don't shine, but I was wrong-o about that. Good for them._

 _As soon as we learned Eldon was a pastor and a lawyer, that was it for me. He should get ten years just for putting those two titles together._

 _For once a local police force cooperates with the NYPD and appears competent. GASP!_

 _We learn:_

 _Carisi skimps on dry cleaning_

 _Rollins' new addiction is reality television, arguably less harmful than gambling._

 _Benson is usually right (ok, we knew that, but Dodds didn't)_

 _Here's your next installment…_

….

Olivia rapped lightly on Tucker's apartment door. The sticky August night clung to her and she wiggled out of her blazer just as he opened the door. For a moment, the action implied the visit was for a reason other than what she'd intended.

"Hey," he said softly, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly, "C'mon in." She'd only been there a handful of times, so he felt obligated to be more formal than she was when she greeted him. Lately, she simply left the door unlocked when he came over.

"Sorry to barge in on you like—"

He held her face in his hands and interrupted her with a kiss. "You know you're not barging in on me." Something wasn't right; he saw it in her eyes. Lately, after he kissed her she regularly leaned in for more, but not this time. "You want a drink?"

Olivia brushed a few damp strands from her forehead and checked her watch, "Yes, please."

Ed led her to the kitchen, "Gotta get home soon?"

"I have a little time."

He slid her a glass and took a seat across from her at the small island. "What's goin' on?"

"Remember Rollins' sister?"

Tucker took a drink and rolled his eyes, "How could I forget?"

"Well, she's back in the city, she's been working for a pimp who she just _stabbed_. Arraignment tomorrow morning."

Tucker stared blankly at Olivia. "Damn."

Olivia forced an annoyed laugh, "Yeah. I spent the past several hours with their mother"

"That must have been a treat," Tucker said sarcastically, "She playin' the mom like she played everyone else?"

"Yes she is. And, now, add to the list, her fresh-out-of-law-school attorney."

Tucker reached over and took her free hand, "So why are _you_ so upset?"

"I think we need to lay low until this is over."

Inside, he winced. Despite telling himself to not ask why, he asked why.

Olivia looked around as if she were checking for surveillance devices, "Are we off the record?"

Disappointment clouded his face. Surely they were past this type of question. "You and I," he replied, "Are always off the record here. And at your place. And anywhere else we go. Until we have to be on it."

"That's the thing," she grumbled. "We may have to be on it."

He wouldn't let go of her hand, and peeled the other one from her glass and took that one, too. "Tell me."

"I knew something was off with her," Olivia began, the scalding flood of shame filling her face, "She's on desk duty, was supposed to be going over hotel cam footage which _ended up implicating her sister_ and which she apparently swept under the rug while she tried to bring Kim in herself." Tucker maintained his levelheaded expression, so she continued. "Come to find out, she'd met her sister already, didn't call for backup, let her walk off…and gave her the opportunity to assault the pimp, in _Rollins'_ apartment."

"Isn't Rollins about to have that baby?"

Olivia screwed up her face and slid her hands out of Tucker's grasp. _Isn't Rollins about to have that baby?_ That's all he was going to say?

"Tucker, I think you're missing the point."

A hint of a sparkle formed in his eyes, "When are you going to call me Ed?"

Dumbfounded, Olivia gaped at him. There he was, struggling to hold back a flirtatious grin while she was trying to have a serious conversation.

"Can we please stay focused?"

Nonchalantly, he replied, "I'm focused." Tucker could not have looked more innocent or more honest. He appeared almost childlike.

"Tucker, _seriously_. This is a problem. Or, could be a problem. This was Dodds' first case…and it looks like this?" Olivia cringed and corrected herself, " _Is_ like this? You know what's going to happen when he mouths off to his Dad."

"What's gonna happen?"

The teasing glint intensified, but Olivia's immunity to his charm remained steely. "Our credibility, our reputation…"

"Ah," Tucker dismissed her concerns, albeit gently, "Bill Dodds doesn't care about IAB and he doesn't care about Rollins. He cares about his kid getting a command of his own, and, to a lesser extent, _would_ care that Rollins was outta the precinct when she was supposed to be on desk duty because if somethin' happened to a pregnant cop, NYPD would look bad in the press."

Olivia regarded him skeptically, "But _you_ don't care?"

"Do you want to know the truth?"

"Of course."

"I care about whether or not _you_ trust her." He let go of her hand and made a dramatic switch to his IAB persona. "You want me to bring her in? Say the word. I'll do it. But you can't always do the right thing _and_ do what you're supposed to do. If you don't think you can trust her, then you can move her…you don't have to ruin her career, if that's what you're worried about."

"As IA, you seriously are going to look the other way on this?"

"IA does not know about this," Tucker said breezily, "Olivia Benson told her, uh…" He almost said _boyfriend_ , "Olivia Benson told Ed Tucker she had a rough day. _That's_ what happened here." Tucker fixed his gaze on her, "Can we have that dinner soon?"

 _A rough day?_ Olivia couldn't let this go, "Tucker, what if you got a tip about it from someone else?"

"I didn't."

 _Uh-oh, she's getting a little ticked at me. Stop trying to be cute._

Before she could ask again, he gave her an honest answer. He spoke gently, looking directly into her eyes, "I'd look into it. Considering…what happened before."

"So, you're doing her a special favor?"

"No," Tucker replied firmly, "I'm drawing a line. If you can't talk to me, or, if you have to pick and choose what to say and always be worried about what to say, then that puts us in a really tough spot."

"Us?"

"Yes. _Us_. I trust, that, as SVU's commanding officer, you'll make the right call when it comes to referring a case, or not, to IAB," Ed was using his investigator voice again.

"Thank you," Olivia said, a little too professionally for Ed's liking.

"And," Tucker walked around the island and put his arms around her waist, " _You_ can trust that when it's _us_ …here or wherever else, like _dinner…_ you can tell me anything. And I'll do whatever you want me to do," He gave her a quick peck and leaned back to finish his thought. "Tell you what I think, give you advice, or…just listen."

There. Tucker had deployed his most beguiling charm and mixed it with raw honesty. Oh, and a kiss. And his loose embrace.

 _Damn, she still doesn't look convinced._

Olivia blinked, bit her lip, and fidgeted. "I have a bad feeling about this one," she said reluctantly. "Not because of you and I, because of Dodds. I don't know him well enough. I don't trust him. I feel like he's parroting everything we say and do back to the Chief."

He could feel the tension slowly building in her body as she spoke, "Hey, then we'll lay low until this is over. _Until it passes_ ," Tucker made sure to emphasize this point. "But you get what I said right?"

Olivia dropped her eyes to the floor, "I get it."

"Are you ok with it?"

To Tucker's surprise and delight, she laid her head against his chest, "I'm more than ok with it. I'll have to get used to it. Like everything else with… _us_."

His chest shook as he chuckled gently. "Look at me," he commanded softly.

She obliged.

"Have you gotten used to this?"

Olivia yelped a little at the sloppy, playful smooch. She grinned and teased, " _No_ …I don't think so…"

"Oh?"

He repeated the kiss, but this time Olivia put her hand on the back of his head, urging him on. Kissing Tucker was still a thrilling novelty, and he made it addicting. Olivia relished being enveloped in a simple embrace; however, his kiss conveyed not only security but also, and this was very clear, increasing levels of affection. It seemed he concentrated and put thought into his technique based on what he perceived she needed. Right now, he worked his lips and tongue against her tenderly, slowly, and reassuringly. Other times he was aggressive, maybe a little silly, but unapologetically sending her a very specific message: _I want you_.

…..

Two days later, at a nondescript west side diner, Benson and Tucker sipped coffee and ordered breakfast. After she and Sergeant Dodds' chat the previous night, her apprehension abated and, after he left her office, she eagerly texted Tucker.

 _Have to get home to Noah tonight. Breakfast tomorrow?_

Their hiatus lasted less than forty-eight hours and Tucker, of course, accepted the invitation. He settled in against the faux-leather booth cushion and gazed at her while she updated him on the developments both with Kim Rollins' case and with Mike Dodds. There was an optimism in her voice that had been absent the other night, and as much as he enjoyed the upbeat chatter, he mostly focused on how radiant she looked. She'd styled her hair in subtle waves today, and…were those highlights? In his apartment two nights ago, he'd been so focused on taking her thumb off their relationship's self-destruct button, he failed to notice the change. She wore a powder blue blazer over a black blouse; the lighter color made her cheekbones and her glossed lips stand out. Tucker fantasized about abruptly tossing money on the table to pay for their undelivered breakfast and taking her back to his place for a pre-workday lovemaking session, but he snapped back to reality as Olivia finished her recap.

"So," she said, "I think Mike may work out after all."

Tucker skeptically contorted his lips, "He's still a Dodds."

"And he knows he's a Dodds, which is why he's trying so hard to lose the label of being the Chief's son. They'll get it eventually," Olivia said regarding the rest of her squad.

"And Rollins?"

"The chief suggested she take some time off," Benson replied, "And I agree with him. The stress she's been under…can't be good for her or the baby."

"That family of hers," Tucker thought out loud.

Olivia took a deep breath, "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"Rollins?"

"No. Me."

Tucker raised his eyebrows expectantly. Benson had already told him about her mother—that came up early on, earlier than she thought it would anyway. The subject came up one Friday night when Tucker mentioned heading up to the Bronx the next morning to make a few minor repairs at his mother's house. He assumed Serena was the entirety of her family history.

"A few years ago…I found out I had a half-brother," Olivia said. She tore at the edges of her napkin. "Simon. Who, I came to find out, I was perhaps better off not knowing about." Their food arrived but stayed untouched for the time being. "We were working a case, and used familial DNA to narrow down a list of perps. I had mine run," she looked up at Tucker, "Which was…not exactly legal."

Tucker saw the pain in her face and he wasn't sure if it was because she'd chosen to reveal a moment of unethical behavior or because that moment led to even more heartache and anguish. "It was something about yourself you had to know," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I suppose it was. So, I tracked him down, realized he had a messy past, was a rape suspect, but then we figured out he was being framed."

"We?"

"Stabler and I."

Tucker pressed his lips into a firm line at the mention of her former partner. Olivia ignored it.

"But instead of waiting for the whole thing to play out in court, he ran. I sent him money…he was innocent, I knew it, I was trying to help…get closer to my… _brother._ And almost lost my job in the process."

"So, you understand why Rollins can't walk away from her family."

"I do. But I also understand what it's like to be at the point where the only thing you can do is exactly that. About four years ago, Simon showed up here in New York again, again, he's in trouble. He got busted for having a joint and child services took his kids. I got Ellis to represent him, the charges were dropped, but he and his girlfriend couldn't get the kids back right away."

"They ran," Tucker accurately concluded.

"Yes they did. And they were easily caught. To make a long story short, after that, I had to walk away. Every time he came into my life, I had to go out on a limb for him. I couldn't do that anymore. And after Amanda has the baby and before her sister's trial, she and I are going to have a discussion about that. Sometimes, even though it's painful, you have to walk away in the name of self-preservation." Olivia picked up a napkin-rolled silverware set and handed it to Tucker then picked up her own. "Eat," she said, almost instantly switching back to her initial cheery demeanor and signaling she was finished dredging up this part of her past.

Tucker buttered a piece of toast. "Noah at day care today?" He asked, making small talk.

"He is."

"Wanna do pizza later? The three of us?"

"I'm sure he'd like that." She finally took a bite of her eggs, "And so would I."

"And I made reservations for Saturday night," Tucker informed her. "We're celebrating your promotion. I've made sure nobody will need to call me or SVU, so there'll be no interruptions."

" _Wow_. I wasn't aware you had that much power," Olivia teased. "Good to know."

He smirked at her and continued eating. Olivia trusting him with ugly details from the past was always heartening, but he liked her best the way she was now—a bit cocky and sweetly sarcastic, aptly matching his confidence and wit, returning his amused expression with one of her own.

….

Tucker and Benson were on their way back to her apartment when music blaring from an Irish pub attracted Ed's attention.

"Wanna go in for one more?"

It wasn't terribly late, but they'd finished a bottle and a half carafe of Olivia's favorite N'ero D'avola, a glass of port each with dessert, and two bourbons at one of Tucker's favorite dive bars. Olivia hesitated about adding a nightcap to the nightcap, but Tucker was already going for the door handle.

They entered just as one song ended, and the singer recognized them by shouting "Hello new friends!" into the microphone; Tucker forced a sardonic smile and led Olivia by the hand to a small corner booth tucked in a back corner. They sat side by side, facing the low stage, ordered drinks from the attentive server, and Tucker wasted no time putting his arm around Olivia's shoulders.  
"You can come closer," he coaxed and she slid so her body was flush with his. "Ah, that's better. Didja enjoy your dinner?"

He spoke into her ear and his breath and their proximity made her skin tingle. "I did. Great choice."

"Thank you. I knew you'd like it. I made sure they had your wine."

Olivia laughed, "That's not the _only_ type I drink, ya know. And it wouldn't have been a problem if they didn't have it. Not many places do."

"Tell me about it," Tucker muttered, "That was the fifth or sixth restaurant I called."

Olivia un-wedged herself in order to completely face him, "You did that?"

"Yeah," he replied with a shrug.

"That's really… _nice_."

"I _am_ nice, Lieutenant," he slurred, his eyes drooping slightly under the weight of the alcohol. "Haven't ya figured that out yet?"

She kissed him. "I have."

He grinned and played with the ends of her hair, "I like kissing you."

"You probably never thought you would," Olivia teased.

"Kiss you or like it?"

"Kiss me."

He nodded, "You're right. I never thought I would get to do…this." He cupped the back of her head and brought her to him. This kiss was deeper and lasted longer than the last. He licked his lips as he pulled away. "Nope. Never thought it would happen. But I always wanted to."

"Always?"

Tucker took a long swig of his drink and cast his eyes upwards, calculating. "Let's see…yep. Always."

"Why'd you wait so long?" Olivia challenged.

"I wasn't sure you'd _let_ me until recently," he fired back and gave her another peck on the lips for good measure yet lingering only a few millimeters from her face. "But now that you have, I may never stop."

His lips were on hers again, and they became so involved in the kiss that the server quickly averted her eyes and spun on her heel when she came to check on their drinks. The cavernous space swarmed with patrons, mostly drunk or close to it, so nobody noticed the middle-aged couple in the back trying to devour each other. They stayed fused together until it was absolutely necessary for them to attempt normal breathing.

"I want to spend the night with you," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

If she hadn't had several drinks, his request would have startled her to the point she would have immediately separated herself from him. Sleeping with Tucker was becoming inevitable; she could not deny this, and she could not stop herself from thinking about it. However, a few things caused her to approach physical intimacy in slow motion. First of all, she was nervous. Her previous relationships, for the most part, took off quickly and fizzled out even more quickly. This one progressed differently from its inception; both she and Tucker handled it with kid gloves, cautiously creeping forward, careful not to throw anything off kilter.

Second, the nagging specter of William Lewis hung over her. Tucker already knew some details of her captivity and the aftermath through IAB, but the official version in her jacket most likely contained gaping holes. They'd already altered the nature of their relationship, ravenous make-out sessions like the one they'd just concluded clearly evidenced that, but the next level, to Olivia at least, meant they were on the path to something more permanent, and she didn't feel comfortable embarking on that path until Tucker had the full story.

The first time they made love, in her mind, had to be perfect in every aspect, and tonight, with both of them more than tipsy, didn't fit the bill. She didn't want clumsy, bumbling, chaotic sex, at least not now, and she told Tucker so.

Of course, after taking a second to think as clearly as possible, he agreed. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I wasn't—"

She ran her fingertips along the nape of his neck. "Don't be sorry," she cooed, "I feel the same way…the timing…it isn't quite right." To prove she wasn't upset or turned off, she kissed him.

"Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for everything before."

"What do you mean?"

"I was always such an asshole."

"You had a job to do."

"But you forgave me."

"I did."

"I don't think anyone else has."

"No?"

"No," Tucker murmured, "But you're the only one who matters."

…..

Labor Day weekend, for Tucker, usually entailed doing everything possible to avoid crowds and traffic, but there he was, crouched in the back of the car, securing Noah's car seat. He and Olivia were taking advantage of her day off and driving an hour north to Masker Orchards to pick apples and let Noah run around in the kid-friendly confines. Not only was it a holiday weekend, but this was the orchard's grand opening event as well. Despite knowing this, Tucker suggested they take advantage of the opportunity to get out of the city for a little while.

Olivia was glad Tucker posed the idea during a phone call, because Olivia was sure there was nothing but shock and surprise on her face. He'd been around Noah many times by now, but something this family-oriented was new. She correctly guessed he had probably been uneasy about asking, so she readily accepted.

On the way there, Noah happily munched on cheerios and Tucker and Benson made small talk, trying to skirt the fact that, to anyone who didn't know them, they were looking and acting exactly like a family.

The awkwardness dissipated as soon as they arrived at the farm. Families swarmed the grounds and children ran between face painting stands, a maze, and the line for pony rides. Multiple booths lined the parking lot and vendors sold cider and donuts, hot dogs and pretzels, and various homemade jams, jellies, and pies.

"You wanna take him to run around first?" Ed asked.

"Yeah, we'll save the apples for last."

They each took a toddler hand and walked toward the attractions. Noah was immediately drawn to the face painting, so they handed their money to the artist and hoisted Noah onto the stool. Another attendant held up a board with all the possibilities, and after what seemed like an eternity, Noah pointed to the tiger.

"Good choice," the attendant said, giving Noah a pat on the shoulder.

With their tiger in tow, they entered the maze—a relatively simple construction of hay bales, and Tucker predicted they could navigate their way without getting stuck. He confidently led the way, made a turn, and then looked at Olivia sheepishly as they faced a barrier.

"Oops." He muttered.

She grinned and kissed him. Normally, she didn't go for public displays of affection, worried, almost a little paranoid, that someone would see them. "C'mon," she said, passing on the opportunity to tease him, "My turn to lead."

He put a hand on the small of her back as he followed her out of the nook. Noah bounded a few paces ahead of them, within sight.

After Olivia steered them to the exit, they watched children take laps on a tired-looking pony, and Noah went from mildly to extremely interested. He pointed eagerly and after Olivia prompted him a few times, said something that closely sounded like "horsie."

"You want to ride, little man?" She asked.

Noah continued to point, so they got in line. However, when it was finally Noah's turn, he clung to Olivia's neck.

"C'mon, sweet boy. We'll be right next to you. It's ok."

Tucker went over to the pony, patted the saddle, and then stroked its mane. "See, pal? He's nice. Wants to take you for a ride."

To Olivia's amazement, Noah loosened up and reached out to be seated on the pony. She and Tucker alternated snapping pictures and walking beside Noah as the trainer guided the animal around the short track.

They were about to sit down and have a snack when Olivia got a call. The conversation didn't last long, but the disappointment on her face and in the tone of her voice indicated their trip would have to be cut short.

She frowned at Tucker and sighed. "We have to go."

"Alright," he replied, unbothered.

"We didn't even get any apples," she complained.

Tucker jerked his head in the direction of the booths. "They have some already picked over there. We'll buy a bag…and some donuts and cider. C'mon."

In the car, Tucker saw Olivia take her phone out, and, assuming she was calling the babysitter, reached out for her arm. "I'll watch him," he offered casually.

"You don't have to do that. And I could be a while."

"So what?" Tucker said with a shrug, "We'll have lunch, take a nap, watch the ball game…I _want_ to do it." He shot her a quick, insistent glance before steering the car onto the two-lane highway.

The less she had to inconvenience Lucy the better, and, Tucker genuinely wanted to help. So, Olivia relented, "Ok. But, if you get sick of it, call me and I'll call the sitter."

Smirking, he shook his head.

"Not gonna happen."

…

In the elevator, sent a quick text to Tucker thanking him one more time before the doors opened and she walked almost directly into Carisi and Fin.

"Hey Lieutenant, how was your weekend?" Carisi asked.

"Well it was good 'til now," she replied.

She and the detectives took statements and pressed the parents for information and permission to speak to the victim before being stonewalled by their pastor. He assured them he would have the family follow up with their local police department, so Benson, Fin, and Carisi left. On the street, Fin asked about their next steps.

"If the assault happened here, we need to investigate. But until we have proof that it did, we don't have much to go on without the family's cooperation. So, get as much background as you can on the family and the people closest to them. I'll see you in the morning."

"Got it, Lieutenant."

…

Back at her apartment, Olivia returned and found Tucker reading a book to Noah who was curled up in his lap, intently studying the pages. She unzipped and removed her boots and sat next to them, following along as Tucker finished the story.

"That didn't take long."

"No it didn't. We were obstructed by a pastor-lawyer."

"Huh?"

"Do you watch reality TV?"

Tucker looked at her as if she asked if he'd hired strippers to entertain him and Noah while she was gone. Olivia laughed, slid Noah into her lap, and cuddled him. "Mommy's going to change clothes," she cooed, "And then maybe we'll go get more outside time before dinner."

"Well," Tucker said, "I'll—"

She put a firm hand on his knee, "Stay if you want."

"Yeah," he said and put his hand over hers, "I will. That's what I want."

…

 _I know some of you are itching for another Alone Together chap, but I had to get this one out of my head! Also, I want to make sure to finish this (through Heartfelt Passages) before 9/21!_

 _#Tuckson_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Melancholy Pursuit (subtitled: A City Island Saga):**_ _Seriously, are there so few men on City Island? Are there any City Island natives aged 20-40 who aren't Ray Marino spawn? Dodds giving Benson the side eye when Stella tells them Ray had a side piece for his side piece in addition to his wife was spot on. Classic._ _ **WTF**_ _, right, Mike?_

 _Fin took pics of the exhumation for Rollins. Now that's a true partner!_

 _In addition to being a nicely woven story, this was also a pleasant display of OMB black leather outerwear. Does anyone else re-watch eps just for the fashion show? I do. Now, if I only had the budget. I think SVUStyle blocked me on Twitter because I was a) too demanding and b) too skeptical. Come on. I looked up NYPD salaries. OMB can't afford Burberry and Stella…unless she's on the take…but Tucker woulda caught that already. All I want for Christmas is a blue Ikea bag and five minutes in Benson's closet._

 _It was nice that the squad seemed together-ish and went to see Rollins…then again, if Carisi's cooking, IDC if I despise the company. I'm going for no other reason than to see him toss pasta with tongs._

 _I thought this ep was good, but I also thought its real purpose was to further humanize Dodds and set him apart from his father. A win for the writers on that one._

 _Go home, talk to somebody you love, and don't make this job your whole life._

 _ **Alice**_ _._

 _*Insert tear emoji here._

 _ **Depravity Standard:**_ _Is there an Emmy for casting? If not, why did they not win one for…like…all seasons ever, but especially for Tom Sizemore. Gawwwwd he did a nice job with Hodda._

 _I've devoted most of this chap to the drama of the ep, but let's gossip, shall we? The Carisi-Barba tete-a-tetes crack me the fuck up and Hassler calling him "arm candy" was freaking priceless especially after Barba clearly defined "shadow." Barba saying he'll alert the bar, asking Benson if she can spare him, mocking "Dr. Carisi," Barba shushing Carisi…_

 _Jesus, Rafael, just take the risk and make a move already._

 _Can we give extra credit vocabulary points for Carisi using the word "badinage?"_

 _Oh, and I never want to see Lomatin again._

 _Oh, someone rewatch this ep and count the number of times Benson shook her head in frustration. I stopped at 1,679,010._

 _Here's more Truce. And I don't think it'll go over well… but ya still want to read, right?_

….

Olivia shot into a seated position and frantically turned her neck back and forth, scanning her living room. Her throw blanket was bunched beside her; at some point during the nightmare, she kicked and shoved it into one large mass, heaped, along with two pillows, on the far end of the sofa.

 _Deep breaths_.

 _Exhale slowly_.

 _Repeat_.

When she felt calm enough to move more than a few inches, she stood up and inspected the baby monitor. Noah snoozed peacefully, splayed arms giving way to little balled fists. If she'd screamed during her most recent nightmare, it appeared not to have disrupted him. This hadn't been the scream-inducing type anyway; more likely, she'd been tossing back and forth, parrying an endless miasma of subconscious terror.

More systematic breathing.

She paced back and forth, trying to remember this one, but it was fuzzy. Lately, they were less about specific people than a jarring mixture of voices, almost like something from a Halloween haunted house, but far more sinister.

She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes and forced a yawn.

Three a.m.

Doubting she could fall back asleep any time soon, she went to the kitchen for tea, plucking last night's empty wine glass and bottle from the coffee table on her way.

Olivia steeped her drink and shook her head back and forth. Lately, she practically lived at the Courthouse and defendants and their lawyers tossed an endless string of curveballs at Barba and her detectives. After confessing to killing Lily Evans, Gary Ryan's attorney bogged down the DA's office with motion after motion which, although specious, had to be contested. Unsuccessful with straightforward tactics, the defense opted to go to trial and portrayed the victim as a sexually aggressive, manipulative hellion who took advantage of a gullible simpleton. When Gary took the stand in his defense his attorney managed to portray him so pathetically, Benson and Dodds both worried the jury would be swayed. Barba tried to handle him carefully on cross, but the ADA's clipped language and rapid-fire questioning confused and disoriented Gary to the point he was near tears.

"What was _that_?" Benson hissed to Barba during a brief recess. In her opinion, it was unnecessary to question Gary—they had DNA evidence and a clean confession—and by attacking him, Barba was only helping the smoke and mirrors defense.

"He's guilty. The jury saw that."

"You just opened the door to an acquittal."

"I disagree," Barba shot back. "You heard him. He practically recited the definition of man one. He's done."

In the end, the jury convicted, but having the case nearly blow up in their faces unsettled Benson who, in addition to dealing with her own frustrations, had to handle her squad's as well. Dodds rarely left her side and when he wasn't shadowing her, he sat pensively at his desk. Benson assumed he was trying to make sense of the often inscrutable world of the Special Victims Unit.

Olivia leaned against the counter and stared into her mug. Yesterday, another accused child predator threw them for a loop. Lewis Hodda not only recanted, he did so in open court and accused both Barba and Benson of bullying him into the confession. Olivia sat between the two victims' mothers, confident today would bring them a sense of justice only to have Hodda back out of the plea deal, fire his lawyer, declare his innocence, and force Barba to take him to trial. After absorbing the initial shock, Benson and Barba agreed that, while less expedient, a trial would result in an easy conviction once Wyatt Colfax identified Hodda as the man who kidnapped him. However, the Colfax family refused to cooperate.

"Lean on Wyatt's mother," Barba muttered to her after Delores and Laurie left, "Or he could walk."

"We have a _videotaped_ confession," Benson countered.

"I know, but without Wyatt's ID, the only other ammunition we have is sixteen-year-old circumstantial evidence. I'll do my best, but there's not guarantee."

Benson seethed. "This man is a _predator_. A _murderer,"_ she shook her head incredulously, "He confessed!"

"And he's claiming coercion."

"You _saw_ it, Barba. It was by the book."

"That part is," he pointed out. "What about the part that wasn't recorded?"

Benson glared at him. He was seriously questioning her interrogation? "He's guilty," she said firmly. Without another word, she grabbed her coat and walked out.

Delores' anguish broke Olivia's heart all over again. The Hector Rodriguez case consumed her for a decade after he went missing and now it bubbled up all over again. Ironically, Hector's mother seemed to have the coolest head of all. She expressed confidence in Barba and the in the legal process. She didn't lash out at Laurie. Maybe, Benson thought, after all these years she was permanently numb. At a certain point, when justice is doubtful and coping mechanisms prove futile, it's easier not to have any emotions at all.

Olivia left the tea on the counter and went to bed, hoping to manage another hour or so of sleep. The nightmares were worse and more frequent when she fell asleep on the couch, so she vowed to eliminate that factor immediately.

…..

"Ya know, he's really getting on my nerves with this lawyer stuff."

Olivia shot Fin the look of a mother urging an older brother to be patient with a younger sibling. She didn't have time to say anything because Carisi darted back to his desk, popped open a soda, and propped his feet on a nearby chair. "So who's this Lomatin guy? Auxiliary?"

"Yes," Benson replied, "He's worked in the neighborhood for years."

"He's also a certified weirdo," Fin added.

"Let me know what he tells Rollins," Olivia said, "I'll see everyone in the morning."

Once she was in the elevator she dialed Tucker's number. He didn't pick up and she didn't leave a message. Opting to take advantage of the balmy November weather, she left the sedan in its parking space and walked several blocks to one of the bars she and Tucker frequented for after-work drinks. The regular bartender greeted her by name and brought a bourbon with very little ice, just how she liked it. Within minutes of taking her first sip, Fin called and reported that Lomatin agreed to meet them tomorrow morning at Hector's memorial wall. Olivia reminded Fin to press Lomatin for anything specific he remembered about Hodda and then sent a thank-you text to Rollins. Another bourbon arrived and so did a call from Tucker who had just finished an interview. It didn't take long for him to show up and slide onto the stool next to her.

"Hey," he said wearily, loosening his tie. "I'm glad you called. This has been a helluva day."

"You go first," Olivia said.

"Alright." Instead of beginning his rant, Tucker reached over, put a hand behind her neck, and brought her in for a kiss. "There. Day's better already." Olivia forced a smile, but he could tell she wasn't very receptive to the affection. "Sure ya don't want to go first?"

"Yes," she sighed.

"Well, I passed the test, so—"

"Tucker! That's great!" Olivia exclaimed, incredulous at his mundane delivery of the news.

"Yeah, well, my first order of business was to do the political thing at One PP very early this morning. We have two investigators using vacation time, so _we're_ short-staffed, and the one-two chose today to inform us that several bags of evidence went missing from that big BX Nine bust somewhere between their precinct and central. Always a problem there," Tucker muttered, "Maybe we need to close it or rename it or something."

His attempt at humor made Olivia smile.

"But that's it," Tucker said, "I'm sure it doesn't compare to yours."

"Starting tomorrow, the squad and I get to prep for a sixteen-year-old kidnapping and murder case," Olivia said edgily, "We got a bad ruling from Horowitz today as an added bonus."

"No chance for a plea?"

"We thought we had a plea," she replied curtly, "But he recanted in front of the judge and proceeded to accuse Barba of bullying him and me of coercing his confession."

 _Finally, an explanation for tonight's caginess_. "What was the ruling?"

Olivia explained the background of the case, concluding with mild criticism of Wyatt's parents. "They have an opportunity here…to lock up the man who _took their son_ …and they're just going to let him walk? Unbelievable."

"They don't want to put him through a trial?"

"Nope. So we have Hector's case."

"And the confession. Recorded?"

"Yes it is." Olivia stared straight ahead. "Hector's mother…that poor woman…she's been waiting almost two decades for closure. I was sitting," Olivia waved her hands around, "right next to her in court. Holding her hand. Ready for him to plead guilty and be sentenced. And it all fell apart."

Tucker tried to get her to look at him, but her stare remained fixed. "You know what?" She murmured, holding up her glass, "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Want me to take you home?"

Olivia didn't know what she wanted. She wanted Hodda in prison for twenty-five to life. She wanted her integrity to withstand the attacks from the defense attorney. She wanted Noah. She wanted Tucker. She wanted to sleep tonight, the whole night, without struggling to fall asleep or being jolted awake by a visit from whatever demon was lying dormant in her soul, ready to pounce in a weak moment.

"You know what?"

Tucker blinked, startled at her turn towards the light-hearted. "What?"

"Let's have one more. Then I'll pick up dinner on the way home. Do you want to celebrate your first evening as a Captain with an almost-two-year-old and his mother?"

"Absolutely," Tucker replied, his smirk hiding concern.

She was obviously upset and he couldn't understand why or how she could just forget about everything at the drop of a hat. The problem was, _always was_ , he hesitated about pressing her to return to the issue. So, he opted for flattery.

"You look great in that jacket."

She did. It was an olive leather number with dark gold zippers and buckles that fit her perfectly. He'd seen her in leather before. She always wore it well, but there was something especially attractive about her in this particular jacket. Attitude? Power? The way her perfectly coiffed hair fell along its collar? A combination of all three? Whatever it was, Tucker found it difficult not to gawk at her.

"Thank you," she replied shyly.

"I _like_ you in leather."

"Would you tell me if you didn't like me in something?"

"No."

She chuckled softly and swatted his arm, "Good answer, Tucker. Good answer."

…..

"You think I coerced him? Is that what you think? How long have we known each other?" Olivia's anger with Huang nearly rendered her breathless.

"Olivia, he's suggestable," Huang calmly replied, "It may not have been your intent, but if you planted an idea, he might've believed it."

"He believed it _because he did it_ ," Olivia argued.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know that." Huang raised an eyebrow for emphasis, "And neither do you."

They rode the rest of the way down in silence and parted on the street without another word. Olivia went straight home, yearning for time with Noah, hoping that toddler babble and plastic toys would quell her utter disgust at the mess this case had become. Maybe she and Noah would go to the park and run around; the weather was cool but, as long as the sun was still up, not uncomfortable.

She had adrenaline to burn.

So, by the time Noah was bathed, dressed in pajamas, and placed in bed, she gladly welcomed the exhaustion. Sticking to the plan, she climbed into bed rather than crash on the sofa and flipped through a magazine in between sips of wine.

Around eleven o'clock, her phone vibrated.

The caller's name flashed on the screen, yet there was no need to look.

She knew it was him.

However, tonight, she let the call go to voicemail.

…

To everyone's surprise, Lomatin held up remarkably well on the stand, and Barba gave a rousing summation. Even though she still harbored resentment at him for accusing her of sounding defensive and doubting her competency on the stand, Olivia congratulated the ADA and expressed confidence they could get a conviction. Considering all the facts, the jury would have a hard time arriving at a not guilty verdict. Assuming, of course, they believed the confession was taken legally and without harassment.

When it became clear the jury was having trouble reaching consensus, Benson began visiting Delores daily, sitting with her as long as she could, and allowing the bereaved mother to regale her with stories and photographs from Hector's childhood. Olivia tried to remain optimistic, but the longer the jury stayed out, the more likely it was that they would return hopelessly deadlocked.

That's exactly what happened.

To the dismay of nearly everyone in the courtroom, Judge Horowitz declared a mistrial.

"I'm so, so sorry," Benson said, wrapping an arm around Delores' shoulders.

Shocked, the older woman did not respond; she allowed the Lieutenant to lead her from the courtroom, dazed until they were outside.

"What does that mean…while the state decides?" Delores asked.

"We can retry Hodda," Benson answered, not sounding particularly hopeful. Before she could explain more, two jurors approached and apologized to Delores. While they spoke, Benson listened to Barba as he relayed that two jurors were worried the confession was coerced.

 _Coerced_.

That stung.

Instead of staying with Barba and going with him to the candle-lighting ceremony, Benson took off, determined to make this right.

…..

"Noah," Olivia called to her son who kept wandering to the foyer and out of sight. "Noah, come back in here sweet boy. C'mon over here with me and Tucker."

Noah appeared, crawling behind his dump truck.

"There he is!" Tucker exclaimed, and the boy looked up at him with a broad grin.

"So," Olivia said, focusing most of her attention back to Tucker. "The Colfaxes have agreed to cooperate. Barba's filing the charges in the morning."

"From what you've told me, it sounds pretty open and shut. Maybe this time he'll actually take a plea. Save the kid from testifying."

"Even if that doesn't happen. They've assured us Wyatt's up to it. And, that confession…won't be an issue."

Tucker took a sip of his wine, put the glass on the table, and then rested his hand above Olivia's knee, "I know that bothered you. It would eat at me, too."

"You know," Olivia said reflectively, "Dodds keeps asking me about the worst part of the job…and my answer keeps changing."

Tucker looked back at her expectantly.

"Today, it's when something like this case happens. You think you've done everything… _right_. And you have. But the shadow of doubt grows and grows, and you doubt yourself."

"Olivia, I think we all doubt ourselves. In everything we do. In every job, people doubt themselves."

"But," she countered, "Other than being a parent, other people's decisions…don't usually affect lives, or if they do, they never know about it. I keep replaying that interrogation in my head. I don't think I stepped over a line, and, legally, I didn't. But it resonated with Hodda, so much that _this_ was the result. The same thing with Harrison a few years ago…I'd forgotten all about him, but he didn't forget about me…and he didn't forget what I said to him."

Tucker furrowed his brow. "Harrison?"

"Brady Harrison," Olivia replied as if he should've immediately made the connection. "The guy who had me framed for _murder_?"

Tucker blanched. "Oh."

They both fixed their gazes on Noah who was navigating his truck through the maze of toys scattered all over the floor.

He broke the silence first. "Uh, about that, I—"

"Tucker, I get it."

"You get it?"

"That whole DNA thing…"

"Yeah," Tucker replied, "But I knew deep down somethin' wasn't right."

Olivia looked at him doubtfully, not willing to let him wiggle out of this, "You had good reason to believe I was capable of something like that."

He wore the expression of surrender. She was right. He knew. Well, he knew what he had pieced together—she'd seen a psychiatrist, she worked in sex crimes. Throw in the DNA match and it wasn't difficult for a seasoned cop like Tucker to put two and two together.

"I didn't know _what_ to think. So…I did what I do…"

"Your job," she concluded.  
To her surprise, he shook his head. "No, I took all emotion out of it, everything but reason and fact out of it, and moved forward with that. I had to see you just like I'd seen every other cop I'd ever investigated."

"Because you had to do your job."

 _Damn, she was really insistent about this_.

"Because I _wanted_ you to be innocent. I dug around for ways to make you innocent…and I couldn't find anything. Arresting you was the absolute last resort, at least a lawyer could maybe sort it all out, and when you agreed to the interview…all of that…I thought that maybe I was wrong, you did do it…but it wasn't all your fault…that maybe you just…snapped."

Olivia saw the regret and the pleading in his eyes; it was a familiar expression, it showed up every time they talked about something uncomfortable from their joint past. Only this time she hugged him.

"I guess I was disappointed," he murmured, almost in a whisper, and his body seemingly deflated in her arms.

Their hug was interrupted by Noah, who rushed over to join them. He latched on to Olivia's leg, and she pulled him into her lap.

"Hello, little man," she cooed, blinking back tears. "It's almost bedtime. Let's go pick out our books."

She stood up, shifted Noah to her hip, and ran her fingers gently across Ed's cheek. "Be right back."

….

Their night ended the way their nights had been ending lately. A few innocent kisses and nothing more; he sensed something was wrong, but not necessarily wrong with _them_. He'd give her some time, but, very soon, he vowed to pursue more sensitive information. Benson had a complicated, painful past, and he wanted her to know that it was difficult for him to see her obviously struggling…and not be able or even invited to help. There was no doubt in his mind that he was falling in love with this woman, but she seemed willing to let him get only so close. Maybe he'd made a mistake at the bar, but he thought it had been immediately clarified. They'd had a little too much to drink and he was caught up in the moment. Surely, she understood. Maybe, when he sat her down to talk, he'd lead with an apology about that night.

Olivia tucked herself in bed several hours after he left and faced the side he would be sleeping on had she succumbed to temptation any one of the multiple times she'd wanted him to stay. She imagined hugging his chest as she fell asleep, retreating to their own spaces in the middle of the night only to cuddle again in the morning as the sun rose and they came out of their peaceful slumbers.

 _Nightmares_.

How would she explain this to him? That there was a very strong possibility that he would awaken to her screaming, kicking, verbally and physically fighting off predators invisible to everyone else but her? How could Tucker understand the gloomy reality that she couldn't escape the past and, even worse, she couldn't predict when it would show up, relentlessly haunting and taunting her?

Bothering her most, though, was that, until recently, the nightmares disappeared. She'd been so unaffected, she'd naively diagnosed herself as cured and only sporadically saw Lindstrom.

Noah had already made her life complete, but Tucker showed up as an added bonus.

But she wasn't sure he would continue to be so invested once he realized the depth of her wounds.

…

 _ **I'm running and hiding. Bye.**_

 _ **#Tuckson**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Catfishing Teacher—** _Not to stomp on a dead man's grave, but raise your hand if you wanted Benson to slap the shit out of Junior when he accused Rollins of, uh, being a mother, during his performance review reports. Then he attacks our beloved Fin? For being a kicker? No wa-wayyyyait…ok, Fin_ _ **is**_ _a kicker. Batting .500, Doddso._

 _Nothing too shocking here other than I'll never understand teachers preying on students._ _ **GROSS**_ _. Teenagers are YUCKY. Don't even get me started on wrestling coaches…_

 _I get the Fosters' reasoning…it's cool with them if Zach was assaulted by the hot female teacher but…being the kid who "got it" from the coach? Uh-uh. Unfortunately, we, as a society, are about 250 or so years away from disentangling our values and virtues from this mindset, and even then, it'll only be on the west coast._

 _Lotsa mileage racked up in this ep—Vermont, Pennsylvania…Queens._

 _And I hate to take my eye off the ball, but WTF happened to the teacher? Maybe she can be the house mother at her new husband's frat after serving her sentence? Will she serve a sentence?_

 _Somebody swipe me those aviators Benson was wearing when she and Carisi were in PA…Christmas is coming. No need to wrap them._

 _ **Townhouse Incident**_ _—Confession. I've watched that episode 8,094 times but only three times in its entirety, mostly I start at the point when Captain Tucker shows up._

 _If you haven't seen the look Fin gives Tucker after Captain Ed and Chief Gabriel argue about taking a knee, please go to about 3:17 remaining in the ep and TRY to pry your eyes away from RJB and look at Fin. Our man Tutuola knows something's up._

 _Dear Bobby Burke, you have never looked more ruggedly handsome than you looked in this episode._

 _You know it's serious when two much younger men who clearly stick to a rigorous workout regimen parade around in their underwear, and the fully-clothed, bulletproof vested RJB is STILL the sexiest man in the ep._

 _I consider it at LEAST a misdemeanor for the show to leave us in the lurch about #Tuckson after this ep. It was an ENTIRE MONTH between this one and Collateral Damages and, in fandom time, that's, like, 1,076 years. I was actually worried I would die an early death and not find out for certain if #Tuckson was really #Tuckson. The SVU Writers Room Avi is printed next to mine under "love hate relationship" in the dictionary._

 _Dear Bobby Burke, you have never looked more ruggedly handsome than you looked in this episode._

 _ **On a more serious note**_ _…I have tried to stick as close as possible to what we know to be canon. I've stepped slightly out of that boundary here…not even an entire step, more like a half step, for contextual purposes and also to write into existence what I hope happened… hee hee._

 _ **Also**_ _…I zoned out of many meetings, shirked duties, and ignored my family thinking about this particular chapter and all its elements. Be kind in your disagreements, 'cuz I'm sure there will be many._

 _Dear Bobby Burke, you have never looked more ruggedly handsome than you looked in this episode._

…

"Does it look straight?"

Olivia backed up a few steps and examined the Christmas tree.

"Yes it does."

Tucker tightened the screws and shook the stand a little, ensuring sturdiness, and stood up, surveying his work. "We can straighten it after we cut the rope if we need to," he said, "Scissors?"

Olivia opened and closed several drawers before locating her large shears which looked like they belonged in a museum.

"Where'd you get _these_?" Tucker held them gingerly even though they were solid—five or six inches of metal with hard rubber handles.

"I have no idea. Probably from the precinct."

"I think they're Mrs. Morganstern's."

"Who?"

"My fourth grade teacher."

"They could have been," Olivia mused, "You never know."

Tucker cut the rope, starting and the bottom, and guided the boughs outward, slowly, so they didn't spill needles everywhere. He'd obviously done this many times before.

"There." He stepped back and inspected his work. "How's that?"

Olivia came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Tucker welcomed the affectionate gesture. She only sporadically initiated physical contact, and lately, even those intermittent acts of affection had dwindled to rarities. Maybe the Hodda case fading into the distance and the holidays boosted her mood.

"It looks perfect," she said into his shoulder, "I want to put the lights on before Noah gets up. He'll be so surprised."

"Go get them. I'll help."

Olivia admired Tucker's meticulous attention to detail as he circled the tree, and she was relegated, not unhappily, to holding the rolled bundle and feeding him the slack little by little. Often, he would stop to redo or adjust a section so the lights fell perfectly on the branches. Amused, Olivia mentally chided him.

 _This is going to take forever_.

"So, have you given any more thought to Christmas Eve?" Tucker was behind the tree and mostly obstructed from view as if he'd waited to ask until it was impossible for her to see his face. He'd invited her to his family's Thanksgiving dinner, but Olivia opted for her usual visit to Mrs. Amaro's home. Last week, Tucker extended the Christmas Eve invitation—insisting it was an informal meal without gift exchanges or pretension. "Just my very Irish family," Tucker joked. "And not even all of them."

Olivia promised to think about it. Part of her wanted to accept immediately. Now that she knew the real Tucker, she pictured an evening with his family being entertaining and full of banter and dry humor. However, she'd been mildly uncomfortable with the family-oriented _apple orchard_ until, of course, they arrived and naturally fell in with everyone else. Attending Christmas Eve dinner represented yet another step forward, a _giant_ step, and Olivia found herself apprehensive.

"I have," she replied in a voice that made Tucker predict an impending _no thank you_. "Tucker, first though, I want to apologize for the past few weeks. I've been…distracted."

Tucker kept on slowly and nonchalantly encircling the tree, "You've had a lot going on. I understand."

"The whole thing with Hodda really got to me."

"I know. How ya doin' with that?"

"I feel better," she said, rolling a section of the wires between her thumb and forefinger, "As you know, I've been seeing a shrink for a while now…I'm going on a more regular basis. The whole thing…brought up some…old issues."

Tucker reappeared and looked at her innocently. "I didn't know you were seeing someone."

Olivia's expression suggested she didn't believe him. "You must know."

"How would I?"

"I guess I just assumed IAB would've found out."

"You had to be cleared after, well—" Tucker didn't want to say the name.

Olivia filled in the blank, "Lewis."

"Yeah, uh, him," Tucker fidgeted, clearly unsure how to proceed and about as far away from his IAB characterization as he'd ever been. "Of course you had to be cleared, but anything more than that…that's not something we keep track of, at least not in your case."

"About Lewis," Olivia said slowly, the realization dawning on her that Tucker's IAB files on her contained even fewer details than she predicted. All along, she'd been operating under the assumption that he knew way more than he was letting on and avoiding the subject out of respect and concern. She put the lights on the floor. "Let's sit."

Tucker followed her to the sofa. She sat with her legs crossed, facing him. "What's in the IAB report?"

"Nothin' very extensive. The initial case background, the, uh, paperwork about…your squad realizing you were…gone, tracking him, finding you. His escape…you, well, you going live saying you perjured yourself, and then…" Tucker trailed off. He didn't like thinking about taking her statement, and if memory of that day brought _him_ discomfort, it must be much worse for Olivia to go back there.

"Slipping the detail and going after him," she resolutely completed his sentence.

Tucker's jaw dropped slightly at her firmness. "Yeah."

"You should hear the rest…"

"Go ahead."

She started from the beginning—waking up dazed and tied to the chair in her apartment, feeling woozy, her attacker standing over her triumphantly. Tucker listened as she walked him through what she remembered about her time in captivity and he tried to remain stoic even though, inside, he was both horrified and utterly astounded that she'd been able to move on with her life and recover enough to at least outwardly appear unaffected.

"And then, I snapped."

Tucker shifted a little, not knowing what to do. Hold her hand? Hold _her_? She didn't seem like she wanted to be held at the moment. He expected to see tears in her eyes, but the only emotion he saw was steely resolve.

"To this day and after hours and hours of therapy, I can't explain exactly why I did what I did after I broke free."

"Do you feel like you have to?"

"I had to when I testified."

Tucker winced a little. He knew there was some sleight of hand on the part of Lieutenant Murphy, Benson, and maybe the rest of the squad, but absolutely nobody at IAB cared. "I mean, do you feel like you have to explain it to _yourself_?"

Olivia's face softened and she felt the familiar burn of tears.

 _He got it._

"I do. And I can't quite get there, and I don't know if I ever will," She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand at first and then got up to get the tissue box. "But I keep trying, because, the nightmares and flashbacks…when I remember…they're about losing control. I don't know what exactly triggers them, but that's part of it. It happens when I'm stressed. It happens when I'm not. It's unpredictable. And, sometimes, like up until this fall, I'd gone months without anything…and then they started again, and…it's never going to _completely_ go away."

"Olivia," Ed reached out for her.

She gently pushed his hands away and started to slowly unbutton her blouse. Tucker stared, shocked, trying not to make any type of face whatsoever but wincing inside, as, little by little, she revealed the discolored, striated, scarred chest.

"Cigarettes," she whispered, looking down, pointing out each blemish, "Keys. Wire hanger." Her torso started to shake and then fully convulsed into sobs.

Tucker could no longer stand the distance between them and swooped over to take her into his arms. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he just held on tight, rocking her and stroking her head. Olivia absorbed these affectionate caresses and they reclined together into the cushions. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered, "After you gave your statement to me and Draper that day. The only thing I could do was to find the easiest way out of it…I'm sorry we made it more complicated…at least for a while."

Most of that time in Olivia's life was a blur, but she remembered Tucker's almost pained reaction

" _I told him to rape me."_

" _And you responded?" Tucker asked with a slight wince._

She didn't believe him then, but she came to realize he and Draper really were acting in her best interest.

"We all do what we think is right," she replied hoarsely.

"Tell me what to do, Olivia." There was urgency and helplessness in his voice; Tucker was not used to operating without a clear course of action.

She sat up and dabbed at her face one last time. Tucker was still looking at her, pleading for direction. Those eyes, once upon a time only used to shoot menacing, accusatory lasers at her from across an interrogation room table now regarded her so warmly and tenderly that Olivia realized she'd almost forgotten the enemy version of Ed Tucker ever existed.

"Help me finish the tree," she said softly, cupping his cheek and kissing him before calmly rebuttoning her shirt, "Noah'll be up soon."

He nodded.

"And Ed?"

His breath caught in his throat.

 _Finally_.

He managed to choke out a "yeah?"

"We'll be there on Christmas Eve."

….

After a weekend of breakthroughs, Tucker was feeling cocky on Monday afternoon and sent Olivia an unapologetically presumptuous text message.

 _What are we doing for dinner?_

Almost immediately, she returned the text with a call.

" _Hi_ ," he answered, hoping to flirt a little.

She got right to the point, "We can't do dinner tonight. I have to go to Vermont."

"Another man?"

He thought he heard a chuckle on the other end. _Phew_. _The joke landed_.

"Nope. I have to go arrest someone."

" _I_ wanted to take you to Vermont."

Olivia felt her cheeks redden and hoped Dodds, who was at the wheel of the Crown Vic, wouldn't notice. Carisi and Fin were jawing about something in the back seat and paying no attention to the call.

"Next time," she murmured.

Tucker sat back in his chair, satisfied at her response. "Lucy has Noah?"

"She does."

"Call me if you need me?"

"I will."

"Be safe."

"You too."

Dodds glanced over after she hung up. "Everything ok?" He asked.

"Everything's great," she replied, "Let's do this."

The Sergeant did a subtle double-take at the buoyant undertone of his boss' voice. Unusual.

 _Holidays_ , he figured. Why else would she be so cheerful at the beginning of such an inconvenient trip?

….

Phoebe Burnap was not the only perp inconveniencing SVU in the week prior to Christmas. A day after returning from Vermont, Carisi and Benson tracked down Coach Basinski in rural Pennsylvania, rescued Zach Foster, arrested the coach, and transported him back to New York for a Christmas Eve arraignment.

The Fosters approached Benson outside of the courtroom after the judge set Basinski's bond at $500,000.

"Lieutenant?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Foster. I know the bond—"

Mr. Foster held up a hand, "We're not…concerned about that," he said, screwing up his face and warily eying the approaching media frenzy.

Olivia noticed his displeasure at horde of cameras and reporters, "Why don't you come with me? We'll go out the back."

"Sure."

As they walked away, Mr. Foster continued talking, explaining that he wasn't comfortable having Zach testify and go on the record as being assaulted by the male wrestling coach. A few minutes later, he made the same point in O'Dwyer's office, despite Benson's assurances that Zach's identity would be kept out of the press. Even so, the Fosters grounded themselves in realism. Both Ms. Dunlap and Coach Basinski had been arrested; it wouldn't be difficult for people to figure out how Zach was involved.

O'Dwyer needed the detectives to find someone else.

"Nat's working tonight," Dodds pointed out. "Should we go talk to him?"

Olivia couldn't believe her bad luck. A Christmas Eve arraignment, unforeseen complications, and now a young, eager Sergeant who was also her boss' son wanted to continue working.

"We probably should," she replied. "What time does he start?"

"An hour."

"Let me go make a call."

Inside her office behind closed doors, Olivia called Tucker. The dejection in her voice was apparent as she explained the situation. He tried to make the most of it.

"Why don't I take Noah, and you can either stop by later if you finish in time or I'll bring him back after?"

 _Here we go again_. Tucker seemed intent on celebrating part of this holiday with her and Noah one way or another. His relentlessness never completely disappeared; he just grafted it onto other areas of his life, and now he was gently nudging her into an unfamiliar gray area. However, she _did_ purchase a new Christmas outfit for Noah and buy a gift for Tucker's mother, a small token of appreciation for the invite, and it was possible, if they hurried, that she could get there in time. She pictured him sitting in his office on the edge of his seat…he deserved a _yes_.

"I'll call Lucy and let her know."

"Great!" Tucker truly sounded thrilled and Olivia smiled into the phone.

"I'll get there as soon as I can."

…..

It was after eleven o'clock when Tucker, a sleeping Noah slung over his shoulder, and Benson, lugging a bagful of presents and her son's car seat, practically collapsed through the door of Olivia's apartment. Despite Tucker assuring her there would be no gift exchanges, his mother, whose grandchildren were adults, couldn't resist buying a few things for her two-year-old guest. Dinner went off without a hitch with Olivia arriving only slightly late. As she predicted, the Tuckers were a chatty, boisterous bunch, and she was relieved that they accepted her into their ranks without paying her any special attention. She fell easily into their conversations and good-natured teasing. She particularly relished seeing Ed in this element, even _more_ laid-back than he'd been with her in the past few months, smiling, trash-talking as they played cards, and taking every opportunity to make physical contact with her.

"That was smart of you to pack pajamas for him," Olivia said, returning from placing Noah in his bed.

"I wish I could take credit for it. Lucy had his bag all ready."

Olivia smiled at his honesty and took a seat beside him. "Thank you for inviting us. I wasn't sure how…it would all go…but I had a good time, and so did Noah."

"I'm glad," he leaned over and kissed her softly. "Going to Amaro's tomorrow?"

"Later on. He and his kids are flying in tomorrow morning." Olivia tried but failed to stifle her yawn. The travel and round-the-clock nature of the case finally was catching up with her.

As much as Ed wanted to wake up with her on Christmas morning, that dream would have to be shelved for a year. The day and night had been perfect. He was quitting while he was ahead, but not before planting another kiss on Olivia's lips.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered as he stared into her eyes, wanting so badly to spend the night with her, even if it was just her sleeping on his chest. He held an idealistic confidence that his mere presence could ward off her demons, if only for this night.

"Merry Christmas," she repeated, returning his kiss with one of her own. "Thank you…again…for everything."

"Thank _you_ ," he replied pointedly, and the emphasis was not lost on Benson.

There seemed to be no shortage of uncertainties in her life, but Tucker no longer fell into that category. He was the real deal, solid, reliable—soon it would be time to show him she recognized it.

…

"You want any more of this?" Tucker had started clearing the take-out containers from the coffee table before asking Olivia if she was finished. They'd been sitting untouched for a while.

"No, I'm good. Thanks for doing that."

"No problem. Thanks for inviting me to your New Year's Eve party." Tucker shot her a smirk and carried the containers to the kitchen. The "party" consisted of Italian food and cake, a few noisemakers they quickly had to take away from Noah, and a bottle of wine which now sat alongside two partially-filled glasses.

Tucker returned, wiped the table, and tossed the cloth on the kitchen counter from where he was standing. He looked at his watch.

"It seemed like when I was younger midnight came too quickly. Now it takes forever."

"Anxious?"

He liked the way the Christmas tree lights reflected in her eyes. "A little."

Olivia handed him his glass. "Toast?"

"Sure." He said close to her, "To 2016."

"To 2016."

They sipped, eyes still locked.

"Do you make resolutions?" Olivia asked.

"Nah. You?"

"Not usually."

"You makin' one this year?"

"Thinking about it," Olivia replied mysteriously.

"It was an important year for you," Ed remarked.

Olivia surveyed the space—it was no secret a toddler lived there. "It sure was." She cocked her head, "In a few different ways."

Ed ran his hand slowly up and down her thigh. "It was for me, too."

Olivia looked down, he stopped the movement, and her eyes immediately darted up.

 _Don't stop_ , they implored.

"It's been…hard," Olivia said slowly, the thoughts about to pour out of her mouth were not typical and not easy for her to verbalize, "To go from what we were to what we are."

"You deserve to have someone care about you, Olivia. And I _do,_ sometimes I think, uh, I think you may not believe it, because of…earlier."

"I didn't at first."

"And now?"

"I don't need convincing anymore."

Olivia balled a fistful of his shirt and drew him to her. It took a split second for him to realize what was happening, but he quickly and easily fell into the kiss, following her lead.

For the first time, he felt Olivia's hands on his bare chest. The contact surprised him, but, instead of gasping, he swirled his tongue more deeply into her mouth. In response, she kneaded her fingertips into his pecs and eventually lifted his shirt up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor.

She pried her lips from his, taking a few seconds to smile approvingly at him shirtless.

Tucker leaned back in, running his tongue along the edge of her earlobe then trailing her neck with soft kisses, sending increasingly intense shivers down Olivia's spine.

Next, he slid off her silky blouse, kissed her from shoulder to shoulder along her collarbone, thinking there was a chance she'd stop him like she'd done a few times previously, but her hands flew encouragingly all over his back, neck, and head and, reading his mind, she slung her legs off the couch and stood.

"C'mon."

In the bedroom, they exchanged a few pecks while fumbling with belts and buttons and zippers until, finally, Tucker was kneeling over her gazing admiringly at her clad only in black bra and panties. He kissed up and down her arms and her torso before lifting her slightly to remove the bra.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he rasped, staring intently into her eyes. The observation oozed with sincerity and she could almost feel the self-consciousness and anxiety drain from her psyche.

Both Ed and Olivia went about foreplay deliberately as if this was not only the first time but the only time they'd ever be together. No amount of skin was left unexplored. There were some hints of playfulness and teasing, but, for this night, they mostly attended to one another sweetly and tenderly and lovingly, often pausing to exchange sultry smiles, passion simmering, arousal climbing, their nerves nearly exploding as they tweaked erogenous zones.

It had been a while since a man had been in Olivia's bed. She was apprehensive about taking the lead at first, so she was initially passive, whispered in his ear, moaned and gasped and encouraged him when something he did with his mouth or his fingers _really_ sent her into delirium. Gradually, she made her own patterns down and around his lean, toned body. She, too, experimented and discovered and soon it was his turn to quiver, struggle for breath, and rasp a throaty, "Olivia."

They'd both envisioned this scene and maybe even predicted how it would unfold, but the imagined scenarios didn't come close to competing with the real thing.

Hovering over her, swelling with arousal, Tucker fixed his brilliant blue eyes on her gorgeous features, even sexier with slightly smeared makeup and mussed hair splayed in all directions across the pillow. He wanted to say something, anything, but she pawed at him insistently.

"I've wanted you for so long," he whispered. That was the best he could do at the moment, but, apparently it was well-received. She guided his mouth to hers for a quick but extremely intense kiss.

It felt so right to be inside her, Tucker had to fight feeling regretful that it had taken all his adult life to find this perfect person. He noticed her swallow hard and throw her head back at first, but then they fell into a sensual rhythm neither one of them completely controlled. Some ultra-carnal, supererotic force overcame them, controlling their movements, slinging exhilarating bolts of pleasure racing from their scalps to their toes and back up again. Olivia buried her face into his neck; her cries reverberated against his damp skin. When she laid her head back down, he smothered her lips with his and groaned and panted into her mouth, as they rode out the climax together.

Afterward, they lay on their sides, entangled, faces only inches apart, still swapping kisses, both sets of eyes dazedly content.

"You're so good," she cooed, randomly choosing a phrase.

A languid smirk formed on his face. "Happy?"

"I am."

"Good."

"Are you?"

"So much. I can't describe it."

"Happy New Year, Ed."

Always thrilled to hear Olivia use his first name, he rolled on top of her and a caught a glimpse of the digital clock as he teased at the spot behind her ear.

She saw it, too.

"Mmmmm. _2016_."

Tucker loved the idea of ending one year and beginning another with her all in the same night. "Yeah," he mumbled into her neck, trailing kisses back up to her mouth.

"Happy New Year, Liv."

….

Chief Gabriel had a reputation for impatience when it came to hostage negotiation, and Tucker immediately labeled the commander as a potential obstacle to him conducting the operation the way he saw fit. It didn't sound good—two relatively inexperienced, low-level criminals, high and desperate, holding Olivia and a family hostage. He assumed her quick thinking under pressure was why he was here—surely the captors found out she was a police officer and if money truly was their object, Olivia probably tried to cultivate trust by suggesting they request one of her NYPD friends to negotiate.

Only he was no longer just a friend.

And nobody else knew that.

Maintaining his usual pragmatism and levelheadedness would be excruciatingly difficult.

When he first heard her shaky, clipped voice, fear flamed in in his chest and stayed there for the remainder of the day. His first attempt at freeing the children failed, and the Chief immediately confronted him with the information that ESU was ready for entry.

Even if Olivia weren't in the house, he would've argued against getting tactical at that point.

"He wants to live," Tucker told Gabriel.

While Benson's squad tracked Lisa Crivello and Ralph, Tucker made phone calls and arranged for the requested SUV with tinted windows. Arranging, moving, _doing something_ –he felt better but he kept flashing back to their precious New Year's Eve and the next morning when he offered to sneak out early only to have her nestle herself more snugly into him.

"Stay," she'd whispered.

That was three days ago. Was that all he got? Three days? _Three normal fucking days?_

Tucker snapped back to reality when an officer brought Ralph into the command center. Ed nearly smacked Ralph when, in his nasally, whiny voice, he refused to play along and balked at getting involved. If Fin hadn't stepped in and pointed out that Roxie's life was in danger, Tucker might have wrung Ralph's neck.

The fear in his chest turned into sheer terror when Ralph abandoned the plan and revealed to Joe that he'd been captured.

The line went dead and Tucker immediately called back.

"WHAT?" Joe screamed and then demanded Ralph be allowed back inside. "You lie again, and your pretty little girlfriend dies."

 _How did he know?_

Everyone else in the command center took the bluster in stride

 _His pretty little girlfriend_.

 _Get it together, Ed_.

From there, Tucker felt that he and Olivia were working in tandem. She calmly explained why Ralph wasn't allowed inside and Ed made sure Joe understood the repercussions of ending negotiations. Wisely, Benson shifted the conversation to the money and Tucker turned her suggestion into _Joe's_ suggestion. Knowing Olivia was at least able to have some control over the situation from inside helped him sustain his calm, cool, negotiator persona.

"Good idea, Joe, we'll give you the fifty thousand Ralph got."

Nervousness rattled Tucker. As Joe lost more and more control he would become more reckless. When he saw Richard, beaten and bloodied, he cringed, knowing Olivia could have the same injuries. He couldn't begin to imagine how mentally devastating this would be.

 _If she got out of there alive_.

After Roxie surrendered, Tucker expected the worst, but Joe merely demanded the car remain on the street for him and "his girls."

They were coming out.

Chief Gabriel barked instructions. "So we're not letting him drive out of here. Nobody shoots until I give you the green light."

Tucker interrupted, but the chief shot down the idea to take a knee and effectively dismissed Tucker from the operation altogether. The Captain took a few steps back and set his jaw firmly, biting back both his anxiety and his temper.

There she was.

At least fifty other people were in the immediate vicinity, but Tucker only saw her.

She was talking, saying something to Joe, and then she announced he was letting the kids go.

The kids ran over.

Safe.

She was talking again.

He heard Joe say something, sounding agitated.

Then she made her move. Shot to his upper arm to redirect the weapon, right hook to the face, and the sniper took him out.

Propelled by an overwhelming sense of relief, he sprinted to her. Carisi might have been there, too, but, again, he focused only on Olivia. Clearly shocked, she asked about Noah. Where was Noah? Then she heard his voice.

"Lieutenant, just take care of yourself first."

She froze again and turned to him.

" _Tucker_. Thank you."

Even under duress, she made the distinction between personal and professional. Despite wanting to hug and kiss her, he did the same.

"For what? You did a great job in there, Lieutenant. Let's get you outta here."

….

"Am I giving you my statement tomorrow?"

Ed stroked her hair and kissed her temple. "Cole'll take it."

"Of course," she furrowed her brow at her foolishness, "You were _there_."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry to do that to you."

 _What? She was apologizing?_

"I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to talk to him," he said.

"I knew you'd get us out."

" _You_ did it," he insisted, "You did everything right."

"Except when I went there without backup in the first place."

"You couldn'ta known what was going on in there."

Olivia fidgeted against him and played with a loose string on her jeans. "I should have known better. Even if it was a DV…going alone…that wasn't…" She trailed off.

"Hey," he said softly, "You got everyone…who counts…outta there alive. That's what matters now."

Unconvinced, she took a deep breath. _What about the next time? What happens then?_

"Want me to stay?" He asked, trying not to be too forward.

"Will you just stay like this for a little while longer?"

He kissed her again in the same spot. "Of course. Whatever you want."

After a while, he felt the sleepy weight of her body and she sunk more deeply into him. He may have dozed off a little, too. There was a crick in his neck, and his back started to ache, but she seemed to be sleeping soundly. There was no way he was waking her up.

…..

 _ **#Tuckson**_

 _Five more Truce chapters before S18!_


	14. Chapter 14

_**THIS CHAPTER COVERS THREE EPS AND THE A/N IS LONG SO I WON'T BE UPSET NOR WILL I KNOW IF YOU SCROLL DOWN TO WHERE THE STORY STARTS. I THINK IT'S THERE SOMEWHERE.**_

 _ **A Misunderstanding**_ _-Ladies and gentlemen, it's the Rita Calhoun show! Somebody knows somebody who knows somebody who can tell me how many takes it took to complete the not-all-lawyers-have-to-worry-about-their-next-meal zinger. OMFG. Oh, Rita. And also, Dear Writer C_ _é_ _line Robinson, OUCH…do you feel bad giving a script with a line like that to Delaney Williams? Or is that kind of stuff just collateral damage…oh fuck, I can't type collateral damage without thinking of #Tuckson on Valentine's Day and we're not quite there yet._

 _Oddly, the only people who didn't annoy me were Calhoun and Buchanan an beeeee-lieve me I have literally screamed "Oh fuck you" at my television multiple times because of something the two of them did or said. However, at the end of the day, I'll #ALWAYS side with OMB and I cannot give Calhoun a pass for defending Rudnick and especially saying something about how he was paying more for a better plea deal ok lemme get back to biz…_

 _The ep wasn't exactly ripped from the headlines but did seem inspired by CA's affirmative consent law or maybe that east coast prep school case (sorry I don't feel like looking it up I've literally watched each of these three eps at least five times and I'm tired, yo!), and, I'm sorry to say, I gotta side with Barba on this one. I didn't think his heart was in it until the trial…and by then MY heart was no longer in it. At the risk of being excoriated in reviews and on social media, IDK what I would've done had I been on the jury._

 _Guys? Can we not talk about me in front of…me?_

 _ **Forty-One Witnesses**_ _-As IF we needed another reason to love the shit out of Dominick Carisi, Jr., we get one more—he's Staten Island do-the-right-thing look-out-for-one-another LOYAL! That's some old school shit right there. Not once but TWICE he ripped bystanders a new one…not that they cared, of course…but ya gotta appreciate the effort. I may or may not have been doodling "Sonny" with little hearts substituted for the "o" in the margins of my notebook paper for three days after the episode aired._

 _Anyone else notice OMB generously doling out the compliments? In A Misunderstanding it was with Barba "good cross" then here she's all sweet to Carisi after he gets the café video and helps run down the perps, and then on the way out of court she good jobs Barba again. She even seems a little less hostile to Rollins which is admirable, considering the new mommy's sanctimony is off the freaking charts. Is this her continuing to grow into her leadership role or is she just buzzed up constantly 'cuz I know when I'm hitting the bottle I'm ALL ABOUT the love to the point I'll praise you for breathing._

 _Oh, that was bad._

 _Because for real, OMB looks like shit (well, as much as MH can look like shit) in these eps. And if ya didn't believe she was struggling, fast forward to the end of 41 and OH LOOK! Her two loves—Noah and wine. I can relate because_ _ **I**_ _was drinking way more than usual from this point to Assaulting Reality because I was worried about OMB's drinking. Y'all, remind me every once in a while that these are FAKE PEOPLE._

 _FFS._

 _Remember #RainCheck? That phone call was a really cruel thing to do after "Tucker…thank you." But it was fun breaking Twitter with ya'll speculating about it. I, for one, knew it was Tucker all along. It was, wasn't it?_

 _Oh, and, Rollins? Shut up._

 _ **Nationwide Manhunt-**_ _Oh thank God, one last go-round with_ __ _Dallas Roberts and Jefferson Mays because I just can't get enough of those two._

 _Was anyone else expecting a cameo from Morgan Freeman? Or Tim Robbins?_

 _I hearted this ep and the only thing I don't like about it is that on Hulu, even though the second part was Chicago PD they should be linked together so I don't have to toggle between two shows when I'm re-re-re-re-re-watching to write a fic about them._

 _Barba, as we now know, had been receiving threats…was that why he was so skittish at the prison? That was a little, uh, OOC and startling….but so was the cost of that Uber ride._

 _OMB goes from looking like she's about to pass out at the beginning, to almost strangling that whack job Bronwyn (is there a scientific name/medical condition for attraction to serial killers?) to a wise, veteran sage at the end. It was a_ _ **not-insignificant**_ _moment she had in the bar with Detective Lindsay. I stand by this statement with 100% confidence. I didn't realize it then, but OMB discovered something about herself there._

 _Look at me getting all introspective._

 _On a lighter note, I would like to recommend Carisi and Rollins stop the vending machine convos. They never end well._

…..

Olivia knew she should put Noah in his bed before she fell asleep holding him, but she wasn't quite ready to relinquish the comfort of his warm little body plastered to hers. Before he came into her life, she never bothered thinking too far into the future, assuming things would remain relatively the same, revolving, as they had for almost two decades, around the Special Victims Unit.

Separating her career from motherhood was impossible, especially since cases continually presented ominous warnings of potential challenges she and Noah would have to face as he grew up. Especially daunting was the realization that she could not constantly be by his side, monitoring his decision-making processes and ensuring his safety.

Nos Messis Cerasa? The _Cherry Pickers_ club?

School darkrooms? See what _develops_?

How could she best prepare Noah to navigate these teenage traps? As the parent of a toddler she worried about falls and burns and his fragile yet improving lungs; worrying about his well-being was often torturous. _And he's only two years old_. She looked over at her empty wine glass, streaked with remnants of the Chianti she'd finished earlier. If only she could slow time; she dreaded the anxiety of raising a teenager, particularly raising a teenage boy as a single mom.

Slowing time, though, meant slowing the painful process of recovering from her latest trauma. She tried to tell everyone—Lindstrom, Tucker, Barba, herself—that being held captive by Joe Utley in no way compared to what she'd experienced with William Lewis. Utley and his crew were nervous, unsure of themselves, scared, and disorganized. Yes, she'd been terrified, but, even when her hands were tied and Joe held a gun to her head, she still was able to seize a great deal of control from this captor.

Noah stirred, crinkling his nose and smacking his lips like he did when he was an infant searching for his pacifier. Olivia let him resettle into her chest and resumed her snug grasp. She ran her fingers through his hair, his berry scented shampoo wafting into her nostrils, perfectly pleasant, and she wondered if what Dr. Lindstrom had been alluding to was actually the right path.

Maybe she should stop.

Almost two years ago, when she found herself again at the mercy of William Lewis and faced again with possible death, she believed, for a moment, that saving Amelia was her final deed as a police officer. As she and Lewis passed the revolver back and forth, it became apparent that someone was leaving the granary in a body bag, and Benson briefly believed it would be her. Lewis, the narcissistic psychopath would slip away again, terrorize more people, manipulate his way out of the justice system, and Sergeant Olivia Benson's death would be mourned then fade into the distance, another name on the list of officers killed in the line of duty.

But she survived. She conquered Lewis, yet as she stood there, shocked, blood and brain matter splattered all over her body, she felt absolutely hollow. Emotionless. Detached.

Nothing.

Not even a tiny sense of relief. Not for Amelia. Not for herself.

Absolutely nothing.

Conversely, during and after this most recent incident, Noah was all she could think about— _he_ was her life, she lived for him—and she could not forgive herself for entering a situation that could have, for the second time in his life, rendered him motherless. She replayed that morning over and over in her head. As soon as Lisa Crivello answered the door, Benson instinctively knew something was awry. Why not step back? Call for backup? Was she _that_ overconfident?

Or, maybe, she was distracted, blissfully blinded, buoyed by optimism—she could be a good cop and a good mother, that, she had proven.

Enter Tucker. Add him. Factor in that wonderful New Year's Eve. She'd been floating on air, cheerful…almost unrecognizable she was so happy…but was that _her_?

Was there _really_ room for him in her life? Or was this going to turn into something else she would have to worry about? Handle? Watch as it crumbled into yet another disappointment?

Noah moved again, and Olivia finally took him to his own bed. There, he relaxed, splayed his arms over his head, and, even asleep, almost looked grateful to be in bed where he could fall into a deep slumber.

"Good night, sweet Noah," she whispered, pressing her fingers to her lips and then to the side of his head. She watched him sleep for a few more minutes.

Peaceful.

Content.

The only thing in her life not followed by a gigantic question mark.

….

Benson poured herself a second drink and listened as Barba griped. He'd been pessimistic about the Abby Parker case from the beginning, but after Buchanan and the Roberts family refused to negotiate a deal, the ADA fervently went after Chris only to get a conviction on the misdemeanor. He was pissed. Even though he knew the felony charge was a long shot, Barba entered the murky waters and made, what he thought, was a solid argument for felony attempted rape, and he went all in with the charges. Rafael hated losing, especially when the verdict was the same as what they could have done with a plea deal.

"At least Rita Calhoun got to camp out on the right side of the law for what? A week?" He sneered. "So that's what? Twice in the last few years?" Barba turned away from Benson and stared out into the downtown skyline, regretting the vague reference to Olivia's post-Lewis legal conundrum.

The Lieutenant ignored his blunder. "Just to be clear, we're not friends," she said brusquely. For Benson, Rita so ardently defending the clearly guilty Rudnick was an unforgiveable offense which cast a long, dark shadow over her more noble endeavors. Once Rita found out she and Tucker were now involved, Benson couldn't imagine Calhoun as anything other than, at best, a professional acquaintance.

….

"I'm fine, Rollins. Thank you for asking. Don't…" Olivia waved her pen around, trying to steady her voice. _If people would stop asking and just let me work, I would be even better_. "Don't worry about me. We are all very much looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

Lieutenant Benson ended the call and stared absent-mindedly at the desk full of paperwork. One PP had been kind enough to give her an extension on her end-of-year statistics report, but as the altered deadline neared, a mountain of new files piled on top of the old ones. Lucy planned to stay late on Wednesdays, and this was supposed to be another long night for Benson; however, concentration and focus eluded her, the numbers and words blurred on the DD5s, and a dull ache gnawed at the inside of her forehead. Other than the night officers on duty, Benson was alone in the precinct. She was very serious about looking forward to Rollins' return. With a full squad, including the continually-improving Sergeant Dodds, Benson could better delegate SVU duties.

Knowing any further attempts at working would turn out fruitless, Olivia sent a text to Tucker and departed. Lucy wouldn't expect her for at least another couple hours and she figured seeing Ed would be a welcome diversion from the hollow victory of the squad's most recent case and the nagging administrative responsibilities that would be waiting for her tomorrow morning. Besides, she owed Ed some alone time. During her mandatory time off, they'd spent most evenings together, but she soon jumped right back in to cop mode. Between SVU and Noah, Olivia managed to wear herself out enough that she was finally able to sleep for a few consecutive hours at night. When pushing herself to the point of total exhaustion failed, she preferred to be alone. Sure, she could have asked Ed to come over and he surely would have, but, in her gloomy, reclusive state, she'd be terrible company and that wasn't fair to him.

Lately, it was as if a black cloud of uncertainty hung over her at all times—a walk to the market may or may not include a vision of Lewis or Utley, a normal night of dinner, playtime, and bed time stories with her son could culminate in the most horrific, terrifying nightmare, and smile-inducing thoughts of Ed Tucker always fizzled into scathing analyses of the glaring, inherent defects of their relationship. She was too busy. There would be too many conflicts of interest. What was he going to do? Be Noah's _father_? After he'd already raised his kids? _Right_. He'd retire in a few years and retirement meant vacations in tropical locales without the inconvenience of chasing after a small child.

But she liked him. She wondered what he was doing when he wasn't around. She cared about him. He obviously cared about her; Olivia even sensed he _more_ than just cared about her. No longer did she critically look backwards at their past; Ed Tucker was a good man, complicated, yes, but a good man who had learned some important lessons in the past few years. They'd successfully moved on from the old hostilities, but it was their collective rearranging of the future that unsettled her.

He made her happy.

But he couldn't make her unbroken.

She had to battle this latest round of demons on her own. The struggle was hers. He couldn't understand it; therefore, it was unnecessary for him to be bothered with it.

….

Ed concealed his concern and hugged her before she stepped into his apartment. She'd pulled her hair back into a clip and most of her makeup had fallen victim to the long day. Dark circles pooled under her eyes, contrasting dramatically with the relative pallor of the rest of her face. Instead of relaxing, her body stiffened in his embrace. He held her back at arm's length, brow furrowed, and asked, "Everything ok?"

She brushed back imaginary strands of hair and fluttered her eyelids. "Everything's fine. A lot going on and I'm beat. And I'd love a drink."

"Sure."

Ed prepared two bourbons and Olivia removed her coat and shoes and collapsed onto the couch in a huff. She gratefully accepted the glass and gulped nearly half of it on the first drink.

"Musta been a rough one," Ed remarked with a smirk, "What—"

"Can we not talk about it?"

"Sure."

"Or anything that has to do with the NYPD?"

"Gladly."

Tucker ignored the alarm bells blaring in his head as Olivia practically dove on top of him. There was, he assumed, great distance between not talking about NYPD and sex, especially the aggressive sex she seemed to be initiating. After the near-tragedy they'd recently weathered together, it became apparent that it would take a while to get back to where they'd been on New Year's Day. Now Olivia was simultaneously tugging at his shirt and his belt while keeping her lips pressed firmly to his. Tucker's reaction, other than the inevitable physiological one, was somewhere between being worried and being deliciously turned on.

He managed to coax her to the bedroom yet Olivia insisted on maintaining physical contact, so, on their way, they collided with walls and tables, jostling a framed nineteenth-century depiction of Times Square and nearly knocking over a lamp.

Ed pushed it back into its standing position.

Time was of the essence. They didn't have long.

Both Ed and Olivia operated with a sense of urgency, frantically flinging clothes into corners, biting, sucking, moving way faster than the first time, and hungrily pursuing one another.

The deeper he went, the further away she drifted, but he still felt immensely important, integral, he didn't know exactly why or how, but every move Olivia made indicated he was somehow essential and necessary and needed.

And then it was over.

Side by side they came to rest on their backs, panting, dizzy, almost disoriented with dreamy looks on their faces. They both snuck glances at one another at the same time and laughed at their failed attempt at covertness after which Tucker lifted her into his arms.

"I missed you," he said into her hair.

"It's been crazy," she replied, almost slurring.

Crazy.

Even while holding a naked Olivia Benson in his arms, Tucker could not ignore the problem. He wanted to be _in her life_. All of it. But she either didn't realize that or didn't want it. He understood, after the townhouse, she needed time, space…she needed to heal, but in his mind he was going to be there for her and, in the process, it would bring them closer together. She would see yet another side of him, but, apparently, she either didn't want that part of Ed Tucker or, more probable, didn't know it existed. But he wasn't going there tonight. For the remaining hour or so they had together, he'd just hold her.

…..

Olivia frantically tossed things around her bedroom and then repeated the same movements in the living room.

 _Where was the fucking shield_?

The sun had just risen. SVU had been summoned to Libby Parker's residence, Lucy was on her way over, and Olivia had no credentials.

Except for the Sergeant's badge she was supposed to turn in but never actually got around to delivering to One PP.

That would have to do for now.

On the way to the scene she grabbed her phone to text Tucker but noticed a message from him already there.

 _You left your shield here, Lieutenant. I'll bring it by later_.

Somewhere in her haste to get her clothes off and then back on again, the badge had been propelled into obscurity in Tucker's very tidy apartment.

 _On my way to a scene now. With Sgt badge._

 _Want me to meet you there?_

 _That might make things worse._

Tucker frowned. Worse? He didn't respond because he didn't like what he'd just read. _Worse_ indicated something was already bad. They'd had some really amazing sex. Other than her having to go home afterwards and him sensing not all was completely well with her, it had been perfect. So, it actually wasn't perfect. But it still wasn't _bad_.

 _Worse_?

What the hell was she talking about?

He hoped whatever case she'd been called to handle would at least free her for lunch. This he had to clarify.

 _Worse_?

Wasn't it a little bit funny that, in the throes of passion, her badge had slid out of sight only to be found by him five minutes ago as he put things in order before he left for the day?

Tucker called her.  
"Hey."

"Hey," she replied, blankly, "I'm kinda—"

"I know you're in the middle of somethin' but lemme know when you get a break and I'll meet you. No one'll know."

Olivia's tension dissipated a bit. "Thanks." She told him where they were. "Or I can come get it. I'll let you know once I know what we're dealing with."

"Maybe lunch?"

"Maybe."

Tucker heard a screech and then what must have been the car door opening. "I really have to go," she said breathlessly, "I'm late as it is."

Her tone bothered him. "Talk to you later," he snapped, a little hurt.

She said something, it could've been "ok" or it could've been "bye." Whatever it was, Tucker took it personally.

…...

Olivia reunited with her Lieutenant's shield later that morning; she didn't have time for lunch or even a coffee, so Tucker met her on the street in front of IAB and handed over the badge. Olivia affixed it to her belt, taking longer than a seasoned cop would normally take. "Dinner later?" Tucker studied her and tried to make eye contact but she seemed to be purposely avoiding it.

"Noah was congested this morning when I left. I better not. I'm actually running some meds to Lucy now before I head back. I don't want this to get worse."

"Yeah," Tucker murmured, "His lungs."

"He's been better lately, but this cold..."

"It's bad for him."

Olivia finally met his gaze. "Yeah, it is," she replied.

Talking about Noah, even an under-the-weather Noah softened the edginess in her features and in her tone. Tucker wanted to say so many things to her, but he held back, knowing now was definitely not the time for an impromptu heart-to-heart.

"Well, good luck…with whatever's goin' on."

His forlorn countenance briefly cut through Olivia's thick skin. "It's, uh, not looking good. But they never do. Thanks, uh, want this?" She held out the gold Sergeant's shield.

Tucker raised his eyebrows, "You want _me_ to return it?"

Olivia grimaced, annoyed with herself, "Oh, yeah, never mind. Um." She peered at his hand clutching her elbow.

"So _call_." He urged, unable to hide a shiver. He hadn't bothered to put on his coat. In a second, and after forcing a smile, she was behind the wheel of the sedan heading uptown to deliver cold medicine to her son.

…

Two days later, on a bleak Saturday afternoon, Benson and her detectives tracked down Ronnie and Juan in Brooklyn. The two suspects led them on a foot chase, but the younger, more agile young men sprinted themselves into a trap. Carisi, already annoyed with the pervasive apathy among potential witnesses, sarcastically taunted the crowd as they led the boys away in handcuffs. Later, he sheepishly entered Benson's office and apologized.

"Lieutenant," he said, his head hanging down, "I'm sorry for…earlier…that outburst was uncalled for. I'm just so frustrated…nobody wanting to help or be involved? That's not the way I was raised. That's not the way the world should be."

The idealism widened the soft spot Olivia had developed for her young detective. Lately he'd been coming into his own, he was more confident and decisive, and his instincts were spot on. He managed to procure the video from the coffee shop and basically ran point on the Brooklyn bust. He was doing a great job and Benson told him so.

"I get it, Carisi. And I wasn't gonna say anything, but since you're in here…"

Carisi smiled like a kid who knew his punisher's reprimand was neither sincere nor genuine. "It won't happen again." He assured her.

"Ok. We have to maintain professionalism. Be sure not to make NYPD look bad in the media." Olivia half-winked from behind her glasses; she hated the political part of the job.

Carisi nodded and got back to business. "Right, Lieutenant. We hear back from TARU about that second cell phone yet?"

"Not yet. Dodds is on it. You can go home for the night, Carisi, you've been on this case nonstop."

"I'll stay," Carisi insisted, "See it through til the end."

"Ok," Olivia replied, admiring his dedication. "Don't be afraid to take a break, though."

"Ten-four Lieu."

Carisi spun on his heel and bounded out, leaving Olivia dumbfounded.

 _Lieu_?

…

 _You don't get to make those mistakes anymore._

Rollins' words echoed in Olivia's head as she made her way home from the courthouse. Amanda's sanctimony irritated her at first—she'd been a mother for two months and now she was passing judgement on others? However, the detective was not without demons of her own and maybe she'd simply been parroting advice she'd been giving herself since having Jesse. Surely, Amanda felt the stress of being a new single mother; Olivia could obviously relate. Stress exposed weakness, and she hoped Rollins' time in Gamblers Anonymous diverted her to a healthier path and hoped she was not tempted to fall into destructive yet familiar habits as she juggled her new responsibilities.

Benson ducked into her neighborhood market and emerged with a bottle of wine. Distracted while pulling on her gloves and tucking her wallet back into her purse, she bumped into a patron as he entered.

"S'cuse me," the man muttered without paying her any more attention.

Outside, Olivia leaned back against the stone façade and breathed deeply. The two seconds of contact so unsettled her that she needed a quick reset before continuing down the busy street. Pedestrians blurred together in a grayish early-evening mass. She readied herself to see his face, that's what usually happened—the smug, sneering William Lewis would appear slowly, as if on a computer screen, his features forming pixel by pixel, slowly taunting her.

Tonight, though, he didn't show up.

Olivia unclenched her fists, took another breath, stepped out onto the sidewalk, and blended in with the sparse but steady Tuesday night crowd before turning onto her street.

Noah's minor congestion thankfully stayed minor, and he went to bed without fussing or clinging to her neck as he usually did when he wasn't feeling well. Still in her work clothes, Olivia uncorked the wine and drank the first glass while straightening the kitchen. The mundane task seemed to conjure thoughts of Tucker. After her first refill, she called him.

As he often did, he picked up and began speaking as if they were already in the middle of a conversation. "Go ok today?" He asked

"Yep, guilty verdicts for everyone."

Tucker liked hearing her more upbeat. "Noah feeling better?"

"He's good. He's sleeping like a baby."

"And you?"

"Me? I'm fine." Olivia took a drink.

"The commissioner checked in—"

"I took the mandatory time off and, yes, I'm seeing my shrink."

"I could come over," Tucker suggested.

"Well, that does sound like more fun," Olivia replied. "Rain check?"

"Soon?"

"Ok."

" _Soon_. I miss you, Lieutenant."

"Ok. Me too."

"Night, Olivia."

"Bye."

….

"Sorry I'm late," Olivia said breathlessly, taking the last remaining free spot at the bar. Tucker had been saving it for her. Uneasy at his silence, she apologized again. "Sorry. Chicago's in town. _Yates_. Again. I'm starting to think he'll never go away."

She'd already been drinking, most likely with the Windy City visitors, but he didn't care. "Leather again," he remarked approvingly, gently rubbing the sleeve of her blazer between his thumb and forefinger.

Olivia appreciated the change of subject. While Tucker toyed with her jacket, Yates and Rudnick currently occupied cells twenty feet away from one another in Green Haven's honor block. Benson had finally warmed up to the fact that Rollins knew Yates better than anyone, but making deals with sociopathic serial killers would always induce qualms.

"Yes," she replied, "Leather again. And," she copied his movements on his sleeve, "A dark suit again."

A more prominent red flooded his already flushed cheeks. Sassy Benson was back. She recognized she'd embarrassed him and scooted the stool closer so their legs were touching and, without any extra effort, they sat shoulder to shoulder—a barroom cuddle-slash-apology.

"I can't be out too late," she said, "We have to go up to Green Haven tomorrow."

"Why's that?"

Olivia reminded herself yet again that Tucker didn't have an all-access pass to all things SVU. "He claims he has information on more girls, more…remains we've found. Rollins and Carisi took a pass at him today, but from now on he's gonna have to talk to me. Rollins—she gets him, but he gets to her…too close to her."

"Like, gets in her head?"

"I think so. It gets to the point when you know a perp so well like that…it's almost a codependency. It doesn't necessarily compromise the case, but I don't want it to complicate _Rollins_."

"Yeah," Tucker mused, "Same thing with HNT." He froze. Hostage negotiation. Less than a month ago _she_ was a hostage; except for the immediate aftermath, they'd been avoiding the topic.

"Same thing how?"

Knots formed in Tucker's stomach, "Haveta make a connection to get everyone outta there," He expelled the words in rapid-fire fashion, wanting to quickly change the subject.

Olivia didn't let him. She squeezed his arm, "From what I've seen, you're good at it."

He shrugged off the compliment, "That was different."

"How so?"

" _You_ were in there."

Olivia sat back, stunned. _Were his eyes watering?_ "It was helpful, for you, for anyone, to have another cop inside." Her comment was more suggestion than observation.

He shook his head, partially disagreeing. Sure, they both deserved credit, well, she deserved most of it, for the mostly-peaceful resolution. "I meant," he replied shakily. How should he put this? " _You_. As in Olivia, _not_ Lieutenant Benson."

It was as close to a declaration of love he'd dared to express, and Olivia immediately regretted her recent aloofness, except, of course, for the tryst in his apartment which was more about her needing to leave reality for a while than an expression of mutual affection.

She finished her drink in one gulp and dug in her purse for her wallet. Placing a few bills on the bar, she nudged his glass. "Drink up," she challenged, cocking an eyebrow, "Let's get out of here."

…

By the time they apprehended Bronwyn Freed-Wilkins, Yates and Rudnick had been on the loose for almost twenty-four hours and Benson had been awake for longer than that. She was beyond exhausted, and in addition to being furious that Yates had, yet again, manipulated everyone and usurped control of the situation, she had to hold flashes of Lewis at bay which proved nearly impossible.

Another sociopathic serial killer had escaped custody taking with him the eccentric, slightly-less-deranged-but-still-volatile Doctor Rudnick, cell mate of Jose Silva. _The_ Jose Silva who was one of the first people they'd interviewed when Lewis initially fell off the radar after being released on his own recognizance on the lewdness charge.

Bronwyn Freed, wayward patron saint of serial killers was, _for the second time_ , the accomplice. Not only that, Barba intentionally shielded Benson from the news that he was unable to make the charges against Bronwyn stick, and she'd emerged unscathed with no criminal record.

Benson seethed as Bronwyn defended her actions and refused to back down, even when Barba said, "Liv, we got this."

"No." She fumed, "I'm not gonna coddle her. You helped two serial killers escape from prison. Whatever they do to ANYONE while they're out is on you."

Incredulously, Benson paced as Bronwyn argued that Rudnick had dealt with his dark side.

"He chopped a woman into little pieces!" Benson felt herself losing control, all restraint draining from her body, her muscles tensed, and her jaw tightened; if she and Bronwyn had been in that room alone, there's no telling what would have happened.

"That's not the man I know."

" _Oh my God_."

In over two decades of police work, a veteran officer like Olivia Benson had seen it all; but this level of delusion was one of the most severe and most disturbing she'd ever witnessed. In front of her was a woman who had indirectly caused imaginable suffering for innumerable people, including Olivia herself, and, like Lewis, like the most pesky, invasive species in existence, she just kept coming back.

It would have been so easy to shoot her right there in the interrogation room. Rid the world of this awful person. Benson would've been doing everyone a favor; locking up Bronwyn was a temporary fix. Something…more permanent…needed to be done.

But she wasn't alone with Bronwyn. The cooler heads of Rollins and Barba prevailed and Olivia deferred to them, suddenly not trusting herself to set aside her inner turmoil and conduct an objective interrogation.

After Rudnick spilled the escape plan to Carisi, border patrol and AFT took over; obviating any further involvement from the SVU detectives. Benson ordered Dodds and Detective Lindsay back, and she, Rollins, Carisi, and Barba headed back to the city. Benson flipped the keys to Rollins, hoping she didn't mind driving.

"I'm good, Lieutenant," she said.

They hadn't been in the car for twenty minutes before Benson got the call.

"Damnit," she muttered. "Turn around, Rollins."

Alarmed, Rollins slammed on the brakes in the middle of the two-lane highway. "What is it?"

"Dodds took a bullet. Non-fatal, but we need to get to the hospital."

Benson stared contemplatively into the night as Rollins retraced their route back to Caroga Lake Hospital.

 _Was this ever going to end?_

….

Benson Sunday afternoon at home with Noah and attempted to catch a few hours' sleep while he napped. She was in almost constant contact with Voight, and once it was clear Yates had struck again in Chicago, she and Fin quickly made plans to fly out early Tuesday morning to assist in apprehending him.

She had Tucker on speaker as she packed a carryon bag.

"This is his last stand," Olivia said, "A night, maybe two, tops. He wants to be caught."

"How's Dodds?"

"He'll be fine," Olivia said, "Got hit in the shoulder." She found some sweats and shoved them in the bag alongside a change of work clothes. She debated whether or not to bring a more casual outfit before deciding against it. Tucker was silent for so long she almost forgot he was on the phone.

"Still there?" She asked.

"Yeah, hey, what…who…stays with Noah when you have to go at the last minute like this?"

"That depends, but Lucy is coming in the morning. He'll go to day care and she'll pick him up. Her mom will watch him while she's at her night class. Tuesday's not her usual day to work evenings."

Tucker cleared his throat. "Want me to stay with him? At least while she's in class?"

Olivia froze and tried to control her facial expression as if he could see her. Lucy would probably appreciate not having to cart Noah all over the city. She trusted Tucker. Little by little he chipped away at the walls she'd constructed around her life with her son, and Noah had easily warmed up to him. It was just a few hours. Olivia had to give a quick answer, but it didn't stop her from obsessing about what this meant for their relationship.

"Are you sure?" She asked doubtfully, trying to give him a way out of what could have been a spontaneous, regrettable offer on his part.

"Yeah." Tucker would have offered to keep him for the entire night, but he wisely decided it would be a bit too generous.

"I'll let Lucy know."

…..

Fin dropped Olivia off at the 21st District. Their work in Chicago finished but it being too late to catch a flight back home, he and Olivia had reserved hotel rooms for the night.

"Want me to wait for you?" Fin asked.

"No, go ahead, it's been a long day. I'll have Voight give me a lift or take a cab."

"Sure?"

"Fin," she shot him a look that said _stop worrying about me,_ "I'll be fine."

"Text me when you get in."

"Okay."

She made her way up to the Intelligence Unit just as the televised press conference was wrapping up. Voight was obviously happy to see her, yet the mood among the officers and the room's general ambiance reeked of melancholy. Yates' death was bittersweet.

"I, we, appreciate you comin' over here," Voight said, "You didn't haveta do that."

"We had to see it through to the end," Olivia said, "Our case, too."

"You know, what Erin went through, that can…that can screw a person up for a while."

Olivia paused, swallowed, acknowledging his unspoken point. "For what it's worth, she's got me to walk her through it."

"I wish you were here more often," Voight replied, "You'd be good for her."

Olivia didn't have time to process or deflect the underlying meaning hidden in _I wish you were here more often._ Erin emerged and made a few stops in the precinct before pulling her coat on to leave. Olivia suggested the two of them grab a drink, and the young detective eagerly accepted.

Erin's first question was one Olivia had asked herself many times.

 _Is it wrong that I'm kind of relieved that I'm the one who killed him?_

Olivia responded with the practical answer.

No. Of course not.

But she knew what Erin was thinking. What does it say about a person who is actually relieved they've killed someone else? Even if that someone else deserved to die? Was the very act of pulling the trigger the ultimate victory for Yates? Or, in Olivia's case, for Lewis?

 _That's what you're up against, Erin_.

Detective Lindsay's youth could work in her favor. With time and therapy and more experience, recovery was possible, yet Erin's independence and steely inner strength reminded Olivia of herself. Twenty years ago, Detective Olivia Benson would have balked at any form of external assistance not required by the NYPD. But resisting professional help would inevitably invite a devastating collapse. Olivia hoped Erin would, at least, call her for support instead of opting to go it alone.

 _My phone is always on_.

Olivia still soldiered on through her own recovery, weathering setbacks, and forging ahead, trying to repurpose her terror as fuel to continue the good fight—for women and children, victims and their families…those whose voices, for whatever reason, had been silenced.

 _I'm still doing it._

Even so, Olivia had found Noah, literally and figuratively, and motherhood brought a permanent bright spot in what was often a very dark existence. She found comfort in the reliability of knowing, when she went home, she would find her son, oozing with the innocence of childhood, of hope, and of unconditional love.

She hoped Erin would lean on the people closest to her as she embarked on her own journey to peace and healing…so that she could live the life she'd planned…or maybe even discover one so good she'd never even thought it was possible.

Like the life Olivia had been living.

They toasted themselves.

Erin dawdled, not quite ready to leave.

The SVU Lieutenant tried not to be too abrupt in her departure.

Back at the hotel, Olivia changed clothes and sunk into the plush mattress. Remembering her promise to Fin, she checked in with him and confirmed tomorrow's flight time. Everything in place, she could devote all her attention to the call.

"Morning," Ed joked in a heavy, hoarse voice. He'd obviously been sleeping.

"Sorry," Olivia said.

"No problem. I'm surprised you didn't call earlier but I figured, after I saw the news, you were busy."

"I…um…it's good to hear your voice."

Hundreds of miles separated them. They'd shared a bed. He'd wiped her tears. She'd entrusted him with information she hadn't revealed to anyone else. But, hearing her utter those words— _it's good to hear your voice_ —Tucker had never felt closer to Lieutenant Olivia Benson.

He replied with raw honesty. "It's good to hear you say that."

Olivia grinned bashfully. "I'm on the first flight out in the morning."

"Sounds good."

"Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish you were here."

She heard his crisp sheets rustle as he moved. "Me too," he replied softly, "But I'll stay on the phone as long as you want."

Olivia buried herself more deeply into the pillows and covers.

"Tell me what you and Noah did tonight."

Tucker rehashed the few hours they spent together. Olivia felt her eyes getting heavier and heavier; though fatigued, she felt the elation of a breakthrough.

She was going to sleep tonight.

…..

 _And now on to Collateral Damages and Star-Struck Victims…._

 _#Tuckson_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Collateral Damages**_ _-OMG where to start? I knew all along that the SHOULDER belonged to Tucker (sorry, all you Barson shippers but I'd taken measurements and I knew it wasn't the ADA plus, I don't really see romantic chemistry between those two—uh oh I better duck and cover)._

 _Baaack to the ep…Teddy's Gross. Abraham's Grosser. And we feel awful for Pippa._

 _She called him Ed! She called him Ed! OMFG SHE CALLED HIM ED! "Ed, give me five minutes." NOBODY asks Tucker for five fucking minutes, dammit, oh, wait, OMB does! AND TUCKER GIVES IT TO HER (well, at this point he's giving her more than five minutes if ya catch my drift)._

 _The looks Fin gives Tucker are classic—the grimace when he arrives on scene and then the confusion when, oh yeah, OMB INTERRUPTS TUCKER outside Abraham's building and then when Tucker's all "get him outta here before the press show up" and Fin is just like WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY?_

 _Dear Fin, that time last night, OMB was naked in Tucker's arms, dude. That'll take the edge off._ _ **DISCLAIMER**_ _: I don't know that for a fact. Also, I'd leave my husband for Mariska Hargitay._

 _Speaking of looks, Barba got a couple in during the convo in Benson's office. The Lieutenant and the Captain were a bit too close for the ADA's comfort and then… "One of you wanna join me, or am I on my own?" Oh, Barba._

 _Dear Raffie, they're in their own little world, amigo, HAVEN'T YOU EVER SEEN TWO PEOPLE IN LOVE BEFORE?_

 _Ok, so maybe they're not in love yet, but SHE TOOK HIS ARM. I will forever remember Valentine's Day 2016 as the best of my life. Yes, I'm cray-cray. I've accepted this and you all should, too._

 _ **Star-Struck Victims-**_ _This one doesn't get much attention in this chap mostly because I didn't like it._

 _I did think they were setting Rollins up to be fired, though, but actually it was a ploy to keep making us like Mike Dodds. I still don't get how One PP was just going to let the leak slide into oblivion without holding anyone accountable but whatever…_

 _Oh, and I STG, when D'Amico said he didn't know what the vic said because her head was in his lap, I said "Excuse me!?" at the same time Benson said it. So, that basically means, I am Olivia Benson._

 _As for the chief? This ep made me think that he was in on the Manhattan Transfer mess when that time came. Nothin' but shade from Daddy Dodds in this one._

 _Speaking of…_

 _ **Manhattan Transfer-**_ _"Yeah," the writers say, "We'll give ya your Tuckson but we're also gonna fuck it up right away, too, just to show everyone who's boss around here."_

 _I just can't with this one. Carisi in those sexy glasses and then Tuckson after Tuckson after Tuckson and the hug and he takes her hand and BIASED TOWARDS YOU and STAY OUT OF IT and his "Oh, ok" after BIASED TOWARDS YOU and that OMB smirk in his office and Tucker telling Dodds "Eassssy" and. Just. GAHHHHHH._

 _Oh and also "I've locked up better liars than you" and Tucker yanks himself out of OMB's grasp and she pushes him away and THAT'S ENOUGH!_

 _I'm getting all worked up here. Deep breath._

 _There's some sorta scandal or something in this ep as well, right? Something involving the Catholic Church? Shocker. I can be cynical, I'm Catholic. But oh my Gawwwwwwwd, people, this was pleasant, rapid-fire Tuckson comin' atcha._

 _Until we were punched the fuck in the face at the end. Insert angry emoji here. Then, adding insult to injury…yeah, you remember…HIATUS. Grrrrrrrr. I haven't especially liked that word since it was on Mr. Allen's vocabulary list in 10_ _th_ _grade English, but now I DESPISE IT with all my being._

 _Here we go. Oh, P.S. a lotta flashback in this one; have to mix up the style every now and then, ya know?_

…

"Tucker, you never told me your cousin was a priest."

" _You never asked_ ," he replied whimsically.

Faking exasperation, she rolled her eyes, smiled, and walked briskly with him to the elevator. He pushed the button and, in the same tone of voice, asked, "Walk me out?"

"This," Olivia fluttered her hand at the doors, "Is typically _out_."

Tucker cocked his head and smirked. _Gonna be difficult, huh, Benson?_

As the doors opened, he looked past her head into the squad room and, seeing no one, loosely took her hand. "Walk me _all_ the way out."

Inside, he drew her close, breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, and slid his hand between her waist and the holstered Glock. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch or pull away. She only whispered, "Cameras, Captain."

"Nobody's watchin' 'em."

"With my luck they probably are."

Tucker's lips formed a playful pout. "In or out tonight?"

"Out?"

The car came to rest at lobby level and Tucker groaned at the too-short ride. "I'll call you later," he said, "Let you know what Eugene has to say, and, more importantly, where we're meeting."

"Ok."

Tucker fought the urge to sneak a quick kiss and hopped out of the elevator as the doors were closing. He looked back and flashed a flirty grin right before the doors rattled back together.

The image of Olivia's amused face would remain with him the rest of the day.

…

Tucker rapped his palms against the steering wheel as he headed uptown on the Westside Highway towards St. Fabiola's Academy. It felt good to be alone in the car, no chance for interruptions, when he could lose himself in a daydream. Well, actually, it more a pleasant reminder of the past couple of weeks. Olivia returned from Chicago seemingly rejuvenated, which was odd considering the round-the-clock nature of the prison escape. Nevertheless, since her return, their time together spiked in frequency and, even though two difficult cases popped up, their mutual affection for one another drifted onto a more serious arc.

Valentine's Day hadn't gone as he planned—how could they truly celebrate after such a shocking, heart-rending case? Still, Tucker looked back on that week almost fondly, at least appreciatively, because it gave him an opportunity to prove a very important point. They _could_ be a couple and function professionally. It was possible to draw the line. The despicable, disgraced Hank Abraham, strangely enough, helped him in that respect.

That night.

How ironic was it that as Abraham's world came crashing down, Tucker's seemed to reconstruct itself right before his eyes?

The night of the bust, he'd tried to be cute with the whole _I know you live to make my life miserable_ quip, but Lieutenant Benson stayed in character, immune to his ill-timed flirting. He fell in line which was just as well since there was no room for error that night.

"Rollins, we're sure, right? Every I dotted; every T crossed?"

As Detective Rollins ticked off assurances, Tucker couldn't hold back the familiar skepticism inherent in his IAB investigator persona. "I'm sure it was, it's just that—"

"Look," Olivia interrupted, holding up a hand, "Tucker just wants to make sure we hand IAB an airtight case."

 _Benson interrupted him?_

He shifted lanes, knowing the exit was near, and smiled. Never before had he smiled at the memory of an interruption.

He and Olivia had stayed outside Abraham's building until the updated warrant showed up, but before Tutuola and Rollins reentered, Tucker thought he caught a funny, puzzled glance from Fin.

"Get him outta here before the press show up."

Tucker was loyal NYPD; the media would have a field day with this arrest, but he wanted to give the commissioner time to get ahead of it if at all possible. Nevertheless, there was no fooling Tutuola—he noticed an obvious change in Tucker's demeanor.

 _But he didn't know why_ , Tucker thought slyly.

The trip to St. Fabiola's was miraculously traffic-jam free. Tucker circled the block twice, searching for parking and the most convenient entrance. When he found a spot, he made sure he had his notes and phone then, leaving the car unlocked, headed in to briefly reunite with his estranged cousin.

Even though Tucker wasn't entirely confident he could cull anything valuable from the visit, he eagerly undertook anything that had the potential to further ingratiate himself to Benson.

…..

Back at SVU, Olivia returned to her office awaiting word from Ed and also making another attempt to piece together the disconnected and inscrutable shreds of evidence they'd collected so far.

Nobody was talking.

Nothing made sense.

The more she thought, the more she sensed they'd stumbled upon something that had the potential to inflict serious damage to the credibility of both city and state governments.

Additionally, Captain Gerbic's snub and "not exactly Madonnas" comment really pissed her off. If he turned out to be culpable, Benson vowed to slap the cuffs on him herself.

Hopefully, they could catch a break with Tucker's cousin.

Tucker's _cousin_?

Olivia admitted she wasn't exactly an open book, but Tucker, while he didn't intentionally withhold information, was far from garrulous about his past. It would have taken a unique conversation for him to volunteer that his cousin was a priest.

 _Our interests diverged._

The Lieutenant laughed. Poor Ed. Practically forced into an uncomfortable meeting with a cousin he apparently had been at odds with for a long time. She planned to needle him about it later; hopefully their talk wouldn't be too painful.

Carisi and Rollins popped in to say they needed a break and were going to lunch. Taking advantage of rare quiet at SVU, Olivia's thoughts drifted back to Ed.

 _Ed_.

He was Ed now.

" _Ed_ , just give me five minutes."

Later, she thanked him for that, especially since she felt like she'd used their personal relationship to stall him and the crime scene unit. He acted as if he hadn't noticed the minor slip, but the twinkle in his blue eyes betrayed him.

"I kinda liked working with you, Lieutenant," he'd told her, "Not _kinda_. I did."

"I need to be more careful though," Olivia chastised herself, "No _Ed_ on the job."

"Whatever you think is best."

No _Ed_ on the job, but it was difficult to keep her distance from him as they rehashed the bust for Barba the next morning. Even with the fiery ADA's presence and the sensitive nature of the case, Olivia couldn't completely tear her mind away from how good their relationship was going, and she couldn't help but circle Tucker closely as she moved around the office. Barba may have noticed the close proximity, but other than sarcastically reminding the two of them that someone needed to join him in interrogation, he said nothing.

In the days between Abraham's arrest and sentencing, Olivia consoled and advised Pippa, but the shell-shocked wife's words about how she and Hank kept their personal and private lives separate resonated with Benson. Olivia brought it up on Valentine's Day; odd timing, but she couldn't help it.

After dinner, she and Ed strolled in the general direction of her apartment, mostly in silence. Earlier that day, Hank Abraham pled guilty and was sentenced at a furtive Sunday court proceeding, and Olivia spent a few afternoon hours with Pippa who was awaiting the arrival of her children. She'd already spoken to a child psychologist, and the doctor recommended a swift return to normalcy. Jordan had to go back to school, and Pippa needed to take the first steps in what would inevitably be a long, painful healing process.

"Abraham's family? How do they start over after something like this?"

"I can't even think about it," Olivia sighed. Even so, Ed asking the question was heartening and further reminded her that his true character was more kind, caring, and sensitive than steely and unforgiving.

"Still up for that nightcap?"

"Yeah, I could really use a drink," she intoned.

Olivia turned into the bar's entrance but stopped suddenly. At first, Tucker thought it was because he'd put a hand on her back and she was uncomfortable with the public display which was odd, considering they'd just shared a fairly intimate dinner at a table for two in front of a window.

"You know what? Not here," she said, stepping back.

"Wherever you wanna go. You tell me," he replied, shrugging slightly.

"Okay."

They took a few steps and Olivia linked arms with him, pulling his body to hers as closely as possible as they walked. If the gesture surprised Ed, he didn't show it, and she glanced at him appreciatively, maybe even a tiny bit adoringly.

A good man.

She couldn't help but feel a tiny bit smug as they sauntered down the block.

They sipped bourbon at a quieter place and she maintained the close proximity, sitting so their legs touched.

Tucker smiled at her. "I know it was a tough day, but I'm glad you still wanted to do this."

Olivia turned to him, elbow propped on the bar, head in hand, "Pippa…earlier this week…told me she and Hank kept their marriage out of their work lives. She said most people didn't know they were together." Tucker furrowed his brow, confused by her response. She clarified. "I wanted to be with you tonight…I did _not_ want to let work get in the way."

"At least, uh, somethin' good came out of it," Tucker replied deliberately, caught a little off guard. Olivia wasn't usually so effusive.

"What's that?"

"We worked together. And everything turned out ok, at least, with _us_."

"Yeah, it did." Olivia admitted softly. "Maybe I've been worrying about that a little too much. I don't want to hide, Ed. I really don't."

Tucker understood. The combination of his reputation and the nagging potential for conflicts of interest posed a bothersome but not insurmountable obstacle. "We'll let things play out on their own," he said, stroking her arm reassuringly. "It'll be fine."

"I don't want you to think—"

"Liv," he interrupted in his raspiest voice, "I'm not thinkin' about anything other than how happy I am to be here with you. Right now." He leaned in for a kiss and she clasped her hands behind his neck, keeping his lips to hers for longer than he'd planned.

A pleasant surprise.

Olivia released him. "Are you coming home with me?" She whispered in her sexiest voice.

"I was hopin' you'd want me there tonight."

She was getting to the point where she wanted him there _every night,_ but she kept that detail to herself for the time being.

Ed's call jolted her back to the present. He was all business. Eugene was hiding behind confidentiality laws, but he did learn from Monsignor Mulregan that Sister Nina had been on medical leave for psychiatric reasons.

"Sister Ida didn't say anything about that," she pointed out.

"Yeah, they're hiding something. Not forthcoming at all," Tucker muttered. If he thought they were lying, something _had_ to be wrong. "I'm heading back to the office. Keep me posted."

"Will do."

They _could_ work together. They were getting pretty good at working together. Yesterday when she and Dodds told Tucker about the sex party bust, she maintained perfect objectivity.

"When were you gonna mention that?" She asked critically after he told them Russo and Jefferson had been previously investigated by IAB.

"Well, nothin' stuck. And accusations against Vice cops are a dime a dozen," Tucker explained, sounding slightly defensive, but then, as if to make up for not telling them about meeting with the cops earlier, he offered, "But if I get them in here and they are part of a high level investigation, they will have to give that up in order to save their shields."

He gazed expectantly at Benson.

 _Does that make you happy, sweetheart?_

Later that night, he requested that she never smile at him like she did just then unless they were alone and, preferably, in bed.

"Do you even realize how sexy you looked?" He asked with a pained expression. "It nearly killed me."

" _Friends_?" Olivia sassed, "You thought we were _friends_?"

"It just came out that way," Tucker replied sheepishly, "You were getting _frustrated_ , Lieutenant. I had to calm you down."

Their performance in front of Sergeant Dodds and today in front of the rest of her squad shielded them with a cloak of invincibility. Emboldened, working together suddenly became enjoyable. Playing for the same team made impartiality easier, but the exhilarating part was operating with a shared secret.

…

Olivia's good mood faded later that day when Carisi and Rollins returned with the news that Cara had been found dead of a suspected heroin overdose.

"We interviewed everyone at the shelter," Rollins reported, "At least the ones who were there. We'll check back in the morning."

"The ME expedited the autopsy," Carisi added, "She'll be ready in the morning, too."

Olivia sighed. "Ok, guys. We'll call it a night then. Call me after you speak with the girls at the shelter, and I'll meet you at the ME's office."

"Have a good night, Lieutenant," they said at the same time.

At home, Olivia did her best to shake off the day's tragic developments and focus on Noah. They played with his trucks and cars and then with the new bowling set. She was feeding Noah his dinner when Ed knocked on the door.

"Who's that?" Olivia cooed to her son. "Is it Tucker?"

Noah mumbled something with his mouth full and Olivia let Tucker in. Laden with take-out bags and dressed casually, he ambled in and dropped the food in the kitchen.

"Hiya, bud," He said to Noah who glanced up and grinned before concentrating on his food. "And, hey you," he said to Olivia, guiding her by the hips into his embrace. After kissing her, he held her at arm's length and furrowed his brow. "What's the matter?"

"One of the girls…ODed today," Olivia replied gloomily, "And I don't know where we go from here." Tucker's face filled with consternation and he started to say something, but Olivia patted his chest, "But I'll deal with it in the morning. Let's eat. I'm starving."

Tucker reached into one of the bags and produced a bottle of wine. "I brought this."

Olivia examined the label. "Wow, that's a good Chianti. Are we celebrating something?"

"Nah," Tucker said bashfully. There was a hint of flirtation in her _wow;_ it made him a little nervous. "The guy at the store recommended it. I asked, 'cause I didn't think ya liked the last one I brought."

"I liked it."

Tucker skeptically pursed his lips, "No ya didn't." He deftly uncorked the bottle. "But you'll like this one."

"I'm not worried." She took the glass he slid to her and swirled the wine around before sipping it. "Mmmm. It's perfect." Tucker studied her, trying to determine the level of sincerity. " _Ed_ , I like it," she insisted.

"I like _you_ ," he retorted playfully.

Glass in hand, she sidled up to him. "Did you bring clothes?"

"I did."

"Good."

"I also brought the kid a new book."

Olivia looked over at Noah then smiled at Ed, "You're covering all the bases tonight, Captain."

"It's what I do," he replied with a wink.

….

It took the entire ride from St. Fabiola's to Benson's apartment for Ed to calm down and breathe normally. He was so keyed up after verbally sparring with Eugene that Olivia almost took the keys from him. The veins near his temple were still pulsating, and his face remained an enraged red, but his driving, though fast, wasn't reckless.

"Lucy there with them?" Ed asked, breaking the tense silence.

"No, she has classes all day today."

They'd determined Sister Nina's mental health issues had been fabricated by the clergy at St. Fabiola's, but allowing her to be alone with Noah didn't sit well with Tucker. She had a target on her back, and even though Olivia insisted she was safe in her apartment, he didn't share her confidence. He sped up.

"Sorry about what happened back there," he muttered, kneading the steering wheel.

"You don't have to be sorry," Olivia soothed, "He _is_ lying."

"I know it. But I shouldnta pushed you away like that."

"You were angry."

"I still shouldnta done that."

Olivia put a hand on his leg, "For what it's worth, I pushed you, too."

"I deserved it. And…what the hell did I do? Cara's dead. And it's my fault."

He pressed his jaw into a firm scowl.

"No," Olivia replied resolutely, "It's the fault of whoever killed her…and whoever orchestrated it."

"Fucking Eugene."

"This _has_ to be enough for warrants."

"Barba hasn't called back?"

"Not yet." It had only been five minutes since she made the initial call.

"We should probably get a detail on the nun, and get her outta your place," he suggested, trying to make his point without actually verbalizing it.

Thankfully, she agreed. "You're right. I'll see what she wants to do, maybe get her in a hotel tonight."

 _Not maybe_ , Tucker thought. These people were ruthless, and he was a little taken aback that she didn't see it.

…

"I shouldn't have told her Eugene was your cousin," Olivia said, her voice full of regret.

Tucker returned to the apartment after waiting in the car for Benson to calm Nina down. He saw the nun flee the building and, concerned, no, worried, he bounded back up to the apartment where he thankfully found Olivia and Noah alive and well.

"Maybe I shouldn't have even brought up his name," Tucker said, hoping to shoulder some of the blame for Nina's burst of paranoia. "Or come here with you."

"She mentioned shock therapy…thought we were going to kill her," Olivia murmured, "Whatever, _whoever_ she's afraid of it's deep seated. Big. I gotta go see Barba. Without Nina, we're _really_ out of cooperating witnesses."

Tucker looked at Noah who was back on the floor with his toys. "Want me to stay with him until Lucy gets here?"

"Ed, you don't—"

"I know, I don't have to do that," he accurately predicted her words. "Go see Barba, Lieutenant. We need to try and get her back. Without her cooperating, I'm not sure where we go from here. We're up against…somethin' ugly."

"Lucy'll be here in an hour. Maybe less." She put her coat on and grabbed his hand. "Thank you."

"Be careful."

"I will."

Olivia left and Tucker took a seat on the couch. Noah brought toys over and he absent-mindedly played with the boy while trying to connect the dots, or, rather, unravel the increasingly tangled threads of the case.

…

When Cole informed Tucker that he was the target of Group One's investigation, it nearly leveled the IAB veteran. Regret clouded Draper's face. He trusted Tucker with his life, but certain elements of the case cast glaring shadows of guilt over his partner. He kept the information about Cara's identity to himself. He'd met with Russo and Jefferson solo and without recording it. Worse, who was going to argue with the Monsignor?

Shortly after Cole wished him luck and took off, the call came.

Group One would see him in the morning.

Tucker decided to wait to call Olivia. It was probably time to disclose their relationship, at least to One PP and Chief Dodds. Although, he wasn't sure he trusted the Chief. Apparently, the roots of this sex trafficking ring ran wide and deep. He continually thought of how appalled Olivia had been at the Chief's meddling in the D'Amico case. Smoothing things over for a "friend" was one thing; sex trafficking was another. Was William Dodds dirty? Tucker had never liked him. Dodds, like Eugene, was a politician—concerned about image and statistics and the newspapers—but Tucker had never figured him for an actual criminal.

He didn't want to drag her into a Group One interrogation. The more Tucker batted around scenarios in his head, the more resolute he became. One PP had to know about the two of them. It was either that, or they would have to go on an indefinite hiatus which he selfishly did not want to impose.

….

Olivia paced Barba's office, shaking her head, flabbergasted that Rafael Barba of all people couldn't see through the Monsignor's unsolicited visit. Dodds saw it; he hadn't said as much, there had been no time, but the surprised look on his face indicated he sensed something fishy about a pop in from the clergyman. _Eugene_ was the bad guy here. But, unexpectedly, Tucker had been thrown into the fray.

Benson couldn't believe it.

Tucker _buried_ allegations against Russo and Jefferson?

No way.

"And he's telling you this now? This is about _protecting_ Father Eugene. I was there, at that church, when Tucker confronted him. I thought he was gonna… _rip his head off_!"

 _Come on, Barba. Wake up!_

"Maybe…maybe that's what he wanted you to think."

A burning sensation funneled through Benson's chest to her throat; no matter how hard she tried, it was impossible to conceal the strain in her voice. "No…Ed is not capable of that."

"Since when? I thought SVU hated this guy? He's gone after each and every one of you."

"That's his job," she protested, "He has to be relentless. You're wrong about him. _Trust me_."

The ardent defense clued Barba in on their secret. He asked only for formality's sake, but he knew the answer.

She was involved with him.

And what was already a blurry, chaotic case went absolutely haywire.

 _You and I are done talking_.

Benson wanted to say something, such as point out that, up until a few minutes ago, she had been under no obligation to mention to anyone she and Ed were involved. But the hurt, anger, and disappointment in Barba's eyes stopped her; the man in front of her, in a matter of seconds, mutated from ally to adversary.

She picked up her coat and scarf and left without another word.

….

Olivia practically ran to the bar—if the situation hadn't been so dire, she would have liked to tease him about the place. It was the divey-est of dives, even for him.

The news replayed in her head.

Sex trafficking.

Corruption.

 _Murder_.

Ed?

He refused her offer to meet at her place. Uncharacteristically paranoid, he suggested this particular off-the-beaten-path hole in the wall and, even though he was the one under scrutiny, urged her to be careful.

"You notice anyone following you, don't come in. Just keep goin."

When he stood up to greet her, his downcast eyes sent pangs of concern shooting through her body. No matter how many cops hated him, Tucker had always prided himself on being on the right side of the law. Sure, he could be an asshole. He was scorned. Mocked. Derided.

But always _right_.

Apparently, nearly two decades of meritorious service in an extremely unpopular division of NYPD counted for nothing.

They shared a quick embrace. Olivia felt his hands on her back and then her hips. He didn't want to let her go.

Not particularly eager to recite the charges out loud, he asked, "So what have ya heard?"

Hearing her say them was worse.

He sunk back into the booth, shoulders slumped, expression morose…defeated.

"Didja get those warrants yet?"

"No," she reported ruefully, "They're stalled. I don't know if it was before or after Barba found out I was… _biased_ towards you."

Olivia had no idea how he would react to the news that she'd unintentionally revealed their relationship at what was probably the absolute worst time. A small part of her predicted a hostile response, not overtly irate, but sullen and distant.

She studied him intently. Waiting.

"Oh, okay," he said softly.

Was that a tiny smile? At the very least, those blue eyes perked up a bit as he leaned forward and took her hand. In the few minutes they'd been sitting across from each other, he'd been looking over her shoulder, wary of potential interlopers, but now he stared intently at her.

"You know how this goes. Don't stick your neck out. It'll look like you're covering for me." She fidgeted, not liking being told to stand down. " _Hey_. They can't prove anything because I haven't done anything. Alright? I'm gonna be fine."

"And we just let these guys skate?"

Though flattered, Tucker nevertheless narrowed his eyes as he reasoned with her. "You wanna go after the church, City Hall, and Albany for an IAB investigator who's loathed by half of NYPD? _Stay out of it_."

It was too late.

Benson's words stung.

"One PP wants to see me. Immediately."

 _Fuck_.

….

Benson pounded out a text as she marched through the squad room to her office.

 _I'm being transferred._

She asked Rollins and Carisi for evidence boxes and pocketed her phone. It vibrated incessantly and she was sure it was Ed calling her in response to the shocking news. He was too smart and, at this point, probably too paranoid to leave a trail of texts.

"I was packing my things," Olivia said as soon as he answered.

"Where are they transferring you?"

"Community Affairs."

"Fuck."

"Are you coming over?"

"I want to, but I don't know if that's such a good idea. I don't know who's behind this…who's watching."

"Does that even matter?" Olivia snapped, "They know now. Barba ran right over to One PP as soon as he found out."

"Where are you?"

"Just left the precinct."

"I'm leaving now."

Olivia screwed up her face, "Oh, wait. You have to be at Group One early."

"Don't worry about that. I'm on my way."

….

 **#Tuckson**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Unholiest Alliance**_ _—Oh no you are NOT putting my fashion hero in a blue Community Affairs polo, uh-uh, no sireeeee._

 _From the beginning of this ep it cracked me up how we saw absolutely nothing about OMB joining Community Affairs (except for that deleted scene) because THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY OMB WAS GOING DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT! So badass Benson is all, like, "I'm still running shit around here" and Dodds is basically her pawn and Barba finally sees the light and Carisi, oh, poor, poor devout Catholic Carisi, IS NOT accepting the bullshit resolution (and I wasn't either because after years and years of hating IAB Tucker now all of a sudden, I'm like WAIT, we HAVE TO HAVE IAB ED TUCKER please please please please don't make him retire). Literally, I was PRAYING. But not as a Catholic…God's unhappy with them at the moment. OMG I am TOTALLY JOKING…that was so bad and I'm thinking about deleting it but, ah, fuck it._

 _I loved this ep and wished it was two hours because I had FULL confidence that Tucker and Benson would return to their rightful places at IAB and SVU and also in each other's arms. But, of course, oh those writers, once again…leaving us with #Tuckson and a side of alcoholism._

 _I also loved the tension between Chief Dodds and Mike and I kinda wanted Junior to smack Dad around a little bit. GAWD._

 _Too many #Tuckson moments to list, but I about fell off my couch with a stupid little smile on my face when I saw Tucker in Benson's apartment among things such as a CAR SEAT, yeah yeah yeah, Tucker's world was crashing down, but you're so fucking HOT Ed, it's ok. I have started a petition demanding more Tucker in casual garb and ya'll better not put OMB in a fucking polo unless they're out playing in a charity golf event together (oooo, I kinda like that idea, Ed could "coach" her and that involves a lot of touching), but I'll donate $100 to JHF for every Tucker bicep I see from here on out. I won't put a price on what I'll pay for even a semi-spicy bedroom scene 'cuz I cannot afford it. Also, I'll be dead anyway._

 _Give an Emmy to whoever thought of the name "Lance Woodstone."_

 _Loved the cocky Barba sipping deli coffee as he questioned witnesses for the Grand Jury. But I always think it's weird he drinks that coffee. Is that him "keeping it real?"_

 _Rollins saying having Dodds in charge wasn't so bad led me to believe she was, once again, fucking a co-worker. At least this one's her boss… But, of course…Alice. Oh, Alice…I'm starting to tear up. The Truce chap for Heartfelt Passages is going to take forevahhhhhh if I'm already this emotional *says to self… "these are fake people, these are fake people"_

 _#HugsForSonnyCarisi_

 _Here's the next Chapter! Picks up the night OMB was notified of the transfer._

 _Oh, wait, ya didn't think I would forget…._

 _#always_

…..

Tucker glanced over his shoulder one last time before disappearing into Olivia's building. She was right, it was too late to worry about being followed now, but he couldn't shake the paranoia. On the way up, he took deep breaths and debated how to go about the conversation they were about to have. His plan for the night, before One PP called, was to suggest they bite the bullet and disclose, but Barba apparently beat them to the punch and now both he and she were in hot water. At least, for her, it was a transfer and not a suspension. Group One, at the very least, would put him on leave, most likely with pay, but he wasn't going to see the inside of his office for at least a week, depending on how the investigation unfolded.

Tucker viewed this as troubling, but a mere inconvenience. It may take a while for the pieces to shake out, but, eventually, the reality that he was being framed would crystallize for Group One.

However, that didn't do much good for Olivia.

Exactly what he didn't want to happen had happened. More frustrating, he was not in a position to make it right and, now, she wasn't either. Neither one of them was accustomed to being powerless.

"Community Affairs," she muttered, plopping down next to him on the couch with a glass of bourbon. "I will be a _great asset_ to women there." She spat out the words venomously.

"That's all they said?"

"Yep. It took all of five minutes."

"They give you any hint of a timetable?"

"The commissioner _did_ use the word temporary." She shifted so her legs were crossed on the cushion, "Do you think this is Dodds seeing a window of opportunity to get Mike a command?" She asked with wide eyes.

"Could be," Tucker mused. "But, Liv, I'm _so_ sorry about all this. You don't deserve to be dragged through the mud, too. I—"

"Stop," she said gently, "It's not your fault. I just don't know who to trust right now. And…Nina is still out there somewhere, _in danger_ , and I report to a cubicle at CA on Monday." She watched him intently as he swallowed. "And _you_ ," she nearly whispered, "Group One tomorrow? You haven't had time to prepare or see a union rep or a lawyer."

"Liv, I told you, I didn't do anything. Whatever digging they do—they won't find anything," Ed's attempt to maintain an upbeat expression failed miserably, "I'll turn over whatever records they want…I just…your job…I wish there was somethin' I could do."

"What's done is done," she commented with finality, "But I need to see Barba. This is ridiculous…and I cannot believe he went to the commissioner _that_ quickly."

"The whole thing's rotten. Eugene, the monsignor, probably the whole damn diocese, Russo, Jefferson, their Captain…all of 'em."

As Tucker griped, Olivia listened attentively, pitying him more and more. If people hated him, fine, but questioning his integrity and accusing him of _these_ crimes? The accusations obviously wounded him, but there was also a latent resignation in his voice…as if things were coming full circle and he, in one way or another, deserved this scrutiny as a sort of serendipitous payback.

He apologized again and Olivia reached over and touched his cheek, brushing her thumb over his lips.

"I'll find Nina," she said softly, resolutely, "And, when we find her, I'll," Olivia cast her eyes at the ceiling contemplatively, " _persuade_ her to come forward."

Tucker looked at her sweetly, knowing further voluntary cooperation from the nun was highly unlikely, but still appreciating her optimism.

"Didja eat?" He asked softly, moving closer to her.

"I'm not hungry."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine."

"Want me to stay?"

"Yes."

Olivia leaned in for a quick kiss and took her time getting back to her original position. In a matter of hours, both their lives had been unfairly upended. Even so, the jagged pieces of this mess coalesced just then into an unmistakable solidarity. Right before Olivia planted another firm kiss on his lips, they exchanged a resolute stare.

Tucker had never experienced adversity like this before, but Olivia sure had.

Only this time, she wasn't fighting alone.

…

Ed Tucker woke up next to Olivia Benson on Saturday, March 5, and, initially, as he drowsily came into consciousness with half-open eyes, all was perfectly well. It was early, Ed always was an early riser. Lying on his back, he stretched, careful not to bump Olivia, then nestled back into the covers, closing the short distance between them which had inevitably formed during the night.

Then he remembered.

She'd slept fitfully.

He'd hardly slept at all.

It was just after five, and, instead of making coffee and reading the _Times_ in bed while making bets with himself as to whether Olivia or Noah would be the first to wake up, he had to go home soon.

Put on a suit.

Group One expected him at eight.

He carefully turned on his side so he could gaze at Olivia who had only two hours ago settled into a deep sleep. Community Affairs? Those bastards transferred here _there_? And for what?

Yes, he was the one in real trouble here, but if he could make some sort of deal and get her back where she was supposed to be, he'd do it. The heinous accusations and being framed by his own cousin knocked him sideways at first, but now the whole process irked him beyond belief. Clearing his name should have been the priority, but, in Ed's mind, removing all suspicion from Olivia was paramount.

Recalling her vow to find Sister Nina and _persuade_ her to talk made him smile a little. Even in this time of crisis, Olivia believed she could battle, and win, against overwhelming odds.

It clicked just then.

Circumstances had spiraled out of control, yet here he was next to her. Rather than push him away, she'd welcomed his presence.

This mess had the potential to end badly, yet they were both more concerned about the other. The transfer undoubtedly angered Olivia, but it was a haughty anger, an annoyance that simply had to run its course. She had no intention of sitting in a cubicle and passively weathering this storm. Before they went to bed last night, she ticked off her plans for the next day.

See Barba.

Find Nina.

Get in touch with Dodds.

Ed balked at that part, "You sure you wanna do that? The Chief finds out you're running things behind the scenes, he'll flip."

"I'm not so sure I trust the Chief, but Dodds…he's not his father's pawn. And he's still new. They're gonna have to investigate and I don't even know if Fin is back yet."

The thought of SVU being run by amateurs clearly horrified the commanding officer.

Knowing she'd parry any further objections, he simply replied, "Be careful."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, "But you…let me know what's going on. If you need anything…"

 _If you need anything_.

He needed her support. Her trust. Her understanding and belief that he truly was innocent.

And he had it.

Olivia stirred as he moved closer and put an arm around her waist. He kissed her shoulder and she moaned a little, like him, not remembering right away what a complete maelstrom they faced on the outside.

"Mmmm," she droned.

"I gotta go, Liv," he whispered. "I didn't wanna just sneak out."

"Kay." She shifted to her back and slightly opened her eyes before reality hit, causing her to pop herself into a seated position as if she were propelled by springs. "Damn."

"I know. I did the same thing."

" _Ed_."

He sat up, kissed her, and soaked up her hug before dragging himself out of bed.

"I'll call you when I can," he said, pulling on his jeans.

"Okay."

Fully dressed, he stood next to the bed, took her outstretched hand, and tried not to look stressed. He would've given anything right then to jump back into bed with her.

He waved off her offer to walk him out and gave her one last kiss.

A man about to meet his executioner.

…..

Frustrated, Olivia stood in the middle of the pedestrian walkway surrounded by an aura of petulance. What was it with people abjectly dismissing her today? Barba had just skulked off and now Sister Nina hung up on her and was clearly distressed, no, she sounded terrified. Olivia called Sergeant Dodds.

"Hey, Lieutenant." He answered morosely. The last interaction in her, now his, office hadn't ended well.

"Dodds," she said breathlessly and, without preliminaries, continued, "Nina just called me. They either have her or they're following her. You've gotta get TARU to trace the burner cell we gave her." She dictated information about the carrier and the phone number and gave him permission to dump her phone if need be.

"Got it," he dutifully replied, "And…you may want to let Tucker know she's in trouble. If their cover starts to fall apart, they're gonna want to get rid of _everybody_ …even the guy they're trying to frame."

Benson appreciated Dodds acknowledging the reality of the situation. He'd been suspicious of the monsignor since they'd run into him outside of Barba's office. He'd called Olivia first thing that morning to explain this and to hear her side of the story since, contrary to her preconceived notions, he had absolutely no forewarning about the transfer or the charges levied against Tucker.

Olivia sighed. "I'll let him know."

"How're things going at Group One?"

"I don't know yet, but I'm headed over there now."

"I'll keep you posted on Nina."

Benson thanked him and marched off in the direction of IAB. She gripped her phone tightly, not wanting to miss Ed's response to her earlier text. Surely, he would get some type of break.

When she came within a block of IAB, she found a bench and took a breather, sorting out her thoughts and trying not to wallow in helplessness. Nina's life was in danger and, here she was, sidelined, benched…both literally and figuratively. She imagined Ed facing Group One. Even burdened by anger and resentment, she was sure he was handling the interrogation well, probably firing back quick, pointed, assured responses as they mercilessly grilled him.

 _Be out in five._

Olivia went to the appointed meeting spot and, as she crossed the street, saw him blow a stream of smoke and then stub out the cigarette with his shoe. He hadn't hidden his sometime-habit from her, but this was an obvious indication that he was more stressed by the allegations than he'd let on.

"Ed," she said, her voice heavy from braving the outdoors for the past hour, "Hey. How are you holding up?"

"Group One's been grilling me since eight a.m." Tucker initially avoided eye contact; Olivia was his staunchest defender, but he couldn't shake the shame he felt at being accused.

"They can't think that you're in on this." Olivia shook her head.

"Oh yeah they can," he replied flatly, "Whaddya got?"

She relayed the details about Sister Nina's call, but he took the news in stride. If the ring's henchmen wanted to try and take him out, at least he'd be vindicated. Checking his watch, he reluctantly told her he had to go back upstairs.

"More questions about me and my cousin Eugene," he muttered, annoyed, and gave her one last look of resignation before squeezing her elbow and walking off. Olivia watched as he crossed the street, wishing she could have come up with parting words of encouragement.

…

"He ran her off the road, raped her, then shot her."

Tucker cringed at the news. Also unsettling was Olivia's apparent resolution to be derelict in her new duties; she checked in at Community Affairs and then, citing a weak pretext, dropped an unpacked evidence box on her new desk and left the office. Having nothing else to do while the panel took a break to scrutinize his first round of answers, Tucker agreed to meet her for "lunch" which, so far, had been the liquid variety.

" _Damn_ ," he huffed.

"Yeah, so, once Group One is notified…that should get you off the hook, right?"

"Not necessarily."

Olivia ducked her head to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Probably as okay as you are."

Olivia shook her head and sighed, "I keep going over in my head…where did this go wrong? I can't…this whole thing just exploded right in front of us."

"I shouldnta seen Eugene," Tucker murmured, "That's where it went wrong."

"You were doing your _job_ ," Olivia pointed out, "Who would've thought a two minute Q and A would lead to _this_?"

"It's not that hard…can't trust the church."

Olivia ran her hand up and down his arm from wrist to elbow. "My squad's working on it. They're leaning on everyone at St. Fabiola's and at St. Bernadine's…the whole diocese if they have to."

"No judge'll sign warrants for those guys. One PP wants this swept under the rug."

"How do you know that?"

Tucker regarded her as if she should've known better than to ask that question, "Corruption like this? They'll say it's better, _for the public_ , if everyone involved gets a slap on the wrist and we move on with our lives."

" _Politics_." Olivia rubbed her temples, "Disgusting. They're just gonna get away with it."

"Yeah they are," Tucker snapped, "And in the meantime, you're in a department you hate and I'm…I…may not have my shield when all this shakes out. Or be in jail."

For the first time, he verbalized a worst-case scenario, and Olivia's heart ached for him. " _Ed_." She pulled him into her embrace. "We'll fight it. That's not gonna happen."

He buried his face into her brunette locks and whispered, "I appreciate the _we_."

…

Something was happening. Ed was supposed to report to Group One for more questioning, but they called Monday morning and cancelled, saying there had been new developments that altered the course of the investigation. Ed indifferently reported this information to Olivia, and she immediately called Dodds.

"What's going on?" She asked urgently.

"Well, the nuns and the priests stonewalled everyone—Fin, Carisi, Rollins—came back with nothing."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That's not surprising."

"But Carisi refused to quit—we got the warrants. Is there somewhere we can meet?"

Benson told him where they'd be later that afternoon and Dodds said he'd stop by.

"I'm not comfortable talking over the phone," he said.

Ed and Olivia arrived at the bar an hour before they expected Dodds' arrival. They ordered bourbons and sipped in silence for a few minutes, processing the news and silently speculating what exactly the new developments were. Ed finally broke the silence.

"This is either very good or very bad," he said pessimistically, leaving no doubt about where he stood on the spectrum.

"He was worried about talking on the phone," Olivia said, "Not sure what that means."

"Either he's been told to stand down…or whatever intel he has…it's, uh, _huge_."

Olivia put a hand on his knee and started to lean in for a kiss, but the door opened and Dodds walked in. The expression on his face was serious but not clouded with despair. Olivia immediately knew he had something positive to report.

"I knew Eugene was hiding something," Ed said as he stared at the picture of his cousin, ball gag in mouth, being dommed by Lance Woodstone. He showed the picture to Olivia, and he liked how she conspicuously put her hand over his as she looked at the phone. There was, however, no time to bask in this mini-breakthrough. Everyone at St. Fabiola's had gone underground. Nobody was talking. Tucker, on an unrelated matter, had spoken to Russo and Jefferson a year ago, but the accusations against them were so weak he didn't bother recording the interviews and, as luck would have it, Draper hadn't been there and couldn't confirm or refute anything.

Benson saw an opening. "Well then I _assume_ that Eugene doesn't know you have his trainer."

Dodds took a deep breath. "A honey trap."

Benson nodded and pressed her lips together firmly.

"I need to get back," Dodds said and turned to leave. "I'll let you know what happens."

Ed gazed at her fawningly, "Nice work, Lieutenant," he said, his voice dripping with admiration, " _You_ …I—" His breath caught in his throat.

The bartender interrupted before the _I love you_ flew out of Tucker's mouth. "Can I get ya another round?"

"Please," Olivia replied, not sensing Tucker's internal conundrum, "And a menu? We should probably eat something."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed, still thinking about what was either a missed opportunity or a fortuitous sidestep.

She leaned over for a kiss. "This is almost over."

"Let's hope it's that simple."

Olivia smiled at him and held up the freshly poured drink. "Right. But…in the meantime, cheers."

"Cheers." He watched as she took a long drink. "Liv, I, uh, I wanna tell you…I really appreciate you, being on my side with all this."

She furrowed her brow and reached over for his hand. "Of course I'm on your side."

"You never thought—"

"Not for one second."

They stayed for another round and went back to Olivia's where Lucy had finished giving Noah a bath and was keeping him awake so Olivia could be the one to read him his stories and put him to bed. After the babysitter's departure, Ed sat with Noah while Olivia changed clothes. With no television or music playing, she could hear bits and pieces of Ed's conversation with her son.

"Have a good day, bud?"

"Whatcha wanna read tonight?"

" _Two_ fire trucks? Wow, I didn't know ya had two!"

She slipped a sweatshirt over her head and studied herself in the mirror.

Was this Tucker for real?

She should be rattled and upset, but, in the midst of this crisis, she'd persisted with remarkable calm and a firm resolve to both clear Tucker's name and get her job back. But something else was happening. _Crisis_ wasn't supposed to be good for relationships, especially ones that had just started, but here they were, both their lives shaken, nearly shattered, and she barely recognized herself…or him. It was as if they, two stubbornly independent souls, subconsciously realized that they were stronger together—both in their battle to save their professional lives and in their internal struggles to cope with the injustices that had been heaped upon them.

Noah was bouncing on Ed's knee when Olivia returned and she froze, overwhelmed by the sweet filial scene in front of her.

"Mama!" Noah raised his arms for her and she sat down next to them.

"Hey sweet boy," she cooed, "Time for bed, baby."

Tucker pointed to the coffee table. "He chose those."

Olivia grabbed the books and settled in next to Ed. Noah leaned back in her lap.

This felt so good.

Twenty minutes later, Noah was in bed and Olivia brought the bourbon and two glasses to the living room.

"Nightcap?" she asked, already pouring the first glass.

Despite his heavy eyes and mental exhaustion, Ed nodded. "Thanks," he said as she nestled back into him.

"You're welcome," she said, a little too brightly and clinked his glass, "Cheers again."

"What time do ya haveta be in tomorrow?"

Olivia groaned. "I don't know. Whenever I get there. Probably by nine. But I won't be staying long. There's a lot of work to do _in the community_ , ya know."

Tucker's first inclination was to remind her to be careful, but Olivia seemed to earnestly believe their nightmare was coming to a close. Additionally, she'd already concluded that the transfer was merely to get her out of the way; NYPD didn't _actually_ expect her to make a major impact in Community Affairs. Tucker wondered how much of this was actually wishful thinking-his logical mind couldn't fully accept her conclusion.

"Just don't piss anyone off." There. He showed his concern but still managed to keep it relaxed and casual.

He felt her shrug, "The only person I've pissed off so far is the officer who insisted I wear that polo."

Ed had to laugh and she swatted his stomach. "Sorry," he said, "That's so…not you."

"I know," she murmured, kneading at his torso with more force, signaling she was getting ready to move to the bedroom. "And it will never be."

…

Olivia did report to Community Affairs the next morning, but a call from Barba gave her an excuse to duck out mid-morning. She met the ADA at a coffee shop. He was there when she arrived, reading the newspaper.

"Hi Liv," he said as she slid into the booth. "Good to see you."

Appalled at the formality, she frowned. "It hasn't been _that_ long."

"Feels like it's been a long time."

She cocked her head, conceding his point.

"Listen," Barba had trouble hiding his discomfort, "The Monsignor, Father Eugene, they fooled us all. We don't have anything on the Monsignor yet, but we'll get it. They're all dirty. And you were right about Tucker."

Olivia bit her lip, unsure what to say in response to this almost-apology.

"I should've trusted you," he said.

At this, Olivia's iciness started to melt. "And, about Tucker, I should've trusted you. We…I…had been waiting for the right time and…got, well, screwed."

Amused at the double entendre, Barba stifled a laugh.

" _Stop_ ," Olivia warned, but she, too, was trying not to laugh.

He returned to business, "I had to tell One PP. You realize that, right? It could've been worse for you and for Tucker if I hadn't."

Benson wasn't so sure about this, but there was no point in arguing about it now. "I get it."

"So, hopefully, you'll be back soon."

"We'll see."

"How's Tucker doing?"

"As well as can be expected… _considering_."

"Well…I need to go prepare for the grand jury."

"Leave the paper," Olivia requested, "I'll stay a while."

Barba rolled his eyes. "That bad, huh?"

"Yep," Olivia replied, "It's that bad."

….

Benson was already seated, a nearly-empty glass in front of her when Tucker entered. Even though this was a wine bar, she was drinking bourbon as she had been doing all week. Predictably, the place was nearly empty and quiet and they spoke in hushed tones.

"Hey there," he greeted her, kissing her cheek, appreciating being able to do that without hesitating or worrying about her reaction.

Olivia inspected him closely. "Love the blue," she cooed, playing with his sleeve.

"Thanks," he said shyly. "What's goin' on?"

"I met with Barba this morning."

Ed's eyes widened and he gruffly muttered, "Really."

"It was good. He, uh, he's come around. He's going after Eugene and the Monsignor."

"What about everybody else?"

Olivia shrugged, "Who knows…the Vice cops? The assemblymen? Judges…they'll probably get probation."

"And what was the name of that Bronx ADA? The one the Monsignor sent that email to? About Eugene?"

"Joel Wynne," she replied, "He was a regular at the floating parties. We picked him up on the initial sting."

Tucker quietly but with exasperation ranted about the powers that be and their ability to come out on the other side of scandals virtually unscathed. "There's not a move in the playbook they don't have a dozen defenses for."

Benson read a text message. It was from Barba. "Hold on. Here's another one." Benson waved at the bartender, "Excuse me, will you turn on the news, please?"

They watched, stunned, as the Monsignor and Bishop Catalano broadcast their own version of the scandal. They claimed Father Eugene, having been caught committing sins of the flesh, was blackmailed into trafficking troubled girls by the NYPD's Vice Squad and Internal Affairs. They accused police officers of killing Sister Nina, revealed the hooks of the ring ran deep into local and state government offices, and concluded with a plea for the federal government to handle the rest of the investigation.

"It's the scorched earth defense," Benson said incredulously. "I almost feel sorry for Eugene."

"I don't," Tucker snapped.

Olivia winced a little. "Hey, Ed, I didn't mean I excuse him for what he did to you."

"I know."

"But he's taking the fall for everyone here. _Everyone_."

"I know it." Tucker stared blankly at the television screen; the broadcast switched back to regular programming, and he wasn't paying attention to anything other than the ire boiling within him. He'd spent most of his career taking corrupt cops off the street, now two of New York's most crooked officers and three despicable priests were managing to escape the arm of the law. His unit had been publicly accused. He was still under the gun at Group One. Olivia was stuck at Community Affairs.

Even in the murkiest of cases, a thread of justice usually squeaked through. Not this time. Pieces of their lives had been thrown into the wind and showed no signs of realigning properly.

"How about we walk a bit?" Olivia suggested. "Go home? Or…do you want to be alone?"

"I definitely don't want that."

Olivia smiled. "One more then we'll go? Pick up Noah from day care? Early dinner?"

Ed fidgeted. "Probably shouldn't have any more…if we're picking him up."

Olivia furrowed her brow but didn't protest. "Okay," she replied, "Feel like cooking tonight?"

"I can do that," he said, his spirits brightening, "I'm assuming we'll have to stop at the market?"

Olivia didn't have to answer. Her sheepish expression said it all. Ed took out his wallet. "Shop then Noah or the other way around?" He asked.

"Other way around," she said. It would be easier to shop without Noah, but a part of her was interesting in completing such a mundane outing as a trio.

"Alright," Tucker signed the receipt, "Let's go."

He led her from the bar with his hand on the small of her back. On the street, she loosely interlaced fingers with him and didn't let go until they arrived at day care.

…..

Tucker sulked.

He did his best to uphold his resolute, steely demeanor in Dodds' presence, but once the Sergeant left Olivia's apartment, he crumbled.

Unsure what to say or do, Olivia paced. Distressed Tucker panicked her. For so long he'd been the looming specter at IAB and now he had no other choice but to take an early retirement? Insert "former" in front of his title? Her world was shaken by the aftershocks of his demise, and she desperately clawed through her mind for the right advice to give. She'd spent her entire career consoling victims, surely she could pull something out of her arsenal.

This was different.

She hadn't _loved_ any of those victims.

She loved Ed.

It had been brewing for a few weeks, just under the surface, waiting for some tremor to cause a fissure and let it loose. That tremor came with unrelenting force.

Should she tell him now? While he was at his lowest point? Would it come across as pity?

"Liv, come sit with me." He took her into his arms and kissed her head.

"Ed, I'm so sorry."

"Me too," he kissed her again. "I guess…I'll have to figure out…what's next."

"Whatever you decide to do, I'm here."

He wanted to cry. Pressure built up behind his eyes, threatening tears. He took a deep breath and managed a half-whispered thank-you.

"I'll help you figure it out, if you want. Whatever you want…need… _ask_."

"I will."

"You want to go to bed? It's late. Maybe—"

"Stay here a little longer," he requested.

She held both his hands in hers. "Done."

…

Olivia's stomach dropped when she saw the incoming call was from Chief Dodds. It was early in the afternoon, and, taking Ed's advice, she was sitting at her desk in Community Affairs, doing nothing other than worry about Ed. He planned to meet with a lawyer in the morning to determine if there were any last minute options available, and then, depending on what the attorney said, he was going to try and hammer out the retirement details at One PP.

"Benson," she answered, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Lieutenant! Great news! You're expected back at SVU tomorrow morning. I know it's Sunday, but we have some messes to clean up and another one just starting."

Stunned, Olivia stammered, "Uh, um, ah, what happened?"

"Your squad's loyal," he said, sounding as if this surprised him, "Got Father Eugene to spill the beans. Indictments are rolling in."

" _Oh_ …"

"I thought you'd be more enthusiastic."

"I'm shocked."

"It does seem a little anti-climactic."

"And…Tucker?"

"He's been cleared. That early retirement business? Not happening?"

"Does he know that?"

"He's probably on the phone with them now."

"Okay."

"It'll be good to have you back Lieutenant. I know they've missed you."

"Thanks, Chief."

Olivia wasted no time leaving. She tucked her box under her arm and surveyed the space, wide open with the exception of the dozens of cubicles. Most of the officers were taking their lunch breaks, and Olivia hadn't made any friends here anyway.

She left without saying a word to anyone.

….

"So, you get to keep your job."

Ed smiled. "And you get yours back."

"Congratulations to us."

They clinked glasses. Olivia finished hers and immediately signaled for a refill. Tonight she convinced Ed to have wine even though it was never his first choice. In honor of their reinstatements, she chose a rare, expensive vintage and made a mental note to insist that she pick up the check. Ever the chivalrous gentleman, Tucker never let her pay.

Ed made a funny face.

"What?"

"Nothin,' it's…it's just I thought, ya know, I know this has been stressful and everything, but I thought we could take it easy tonight." Nervous, he dug his fingers into her thigh and initially avoided looking directly at her.

When he finally made eye contact, Olivia realized his sincerity, but tried to brush off his implicit concern. "Oh, okay. I thought we were celebrating."

"Oh we are," he assured, "It's just…"

"I get it," she interjected. He expected a glib retort, but, instead said, "You're just looking out for me."

"Always," he replied soulfully.

Relieved but still worried, he smirked, and she lifted his hand to her lips. "You want some of this?" She nodded towards the glass.

"Nah. We're gonna eat, right?" Lately they'd developed a dangerous pattern of having several drinks and not bothering with food. One of their "dinners" consisted of Noah's leftover chicken nuggets which, after a tender lovemaking session, was strangely romantic but hardly was sufficient to soak up a night's worth of bourbon.

Olivia signaled to the bartender again, but this time for a menu. "We're eating," she declared. "Steak?"

"Sounds good," reassured, Ed snuck his hand a little further up her thigh and flirted, "And we'll take dessert back to your place?"

Olivia cocked an eyebrow, "Great plan, Captain."

…

Ed smothered Olivia with post-coital kisses. Not bothering to actually prop himself on his elbows, he pressed his entire body to hers, wanting as much contact as possible. She shivered, and he pulled the duvet over them, creating a sort of cocoon-like nook.

"Sorry about the rug," he said, not sounding at all remorseful. "I'll clean it."

After Lucy left, they shared the tiramisu with one fork, and Olivia teased Ed by offering him a bite, retracting it, and repeating he cycle until she'd led him to the bedroom. Having had enough of her teasing, he playfully took the container from her and tossed it on her nightstand, but the aluminum box teetered on the edge and fell to the floor, splattering the contents all over.

Olivia laughed as he kissed her mouth, "I'm not worried."

"About the rug or about anything?"

"Right now…I'm not worried about much at all."

"Nothin?"

"Nothing." She closed her eyes as Ed nipped at her neck and earlobes before returning to her lips, muffling her words. "Well, there's one thing."

"What?"

Her body tensed and she gently pushed Ed to the side as she propped herself against several pillows. "I should tell you about my mother."

Serena stories tumbled out, one after the other, as if Olivia had them at the ready the entire time they'd been seeing each other, waiting for the right moment to open the floodgates. Ed listened intently, never taking his eyes off her, even when he winced at some of the more disturbing details—particularly unsettling was when Olivia recalled the time her mother came after her with a broken vodka bottle. Unlike previous instances of her unearthing her past, she didn't cry this time. Only when she told him she never wanted Noah to deal with that type of abuse did her voice waver, but she collected herself quickly.

"You're right to be worried," Olivia said, caressing his cheek. "And _I_ wasn't worried until you pointed it out tonight…I'm trained to recognize patterns, and I didn't see it. But, often, when all other coping mechanisms fail, I drink."

"I understand," he murmured, "And I'm not worried."

She smirked at him disbelievingly.

"Ok, I'm a little worried," he admitted, "I know…it's easy to do, distract yourself, drink, instead of really dealing with it. I've been there."

"You have?"

"It's never come to the point where I've completely lost control, but, there were times…job, divorce…you name it…I was drinking way too much. Smoking, too. A bad habit I've _almost_ kicked."

"I guess neither one of us is without a little damage."

"You can't have our jobs and not get dinged up once in a while. Actually, in any job, anyone's life, there's always somethin." Olivia seemed to be enjoying his introspection, so he continued. "Liv, I wanna tell you, and you probably know or feel the same way, but I felt like I totally lost control in the past week. Seein' everything fall apart…I'm not used to that."

"You're not. I've been there."

"Yeah, I know…" Tucker kissed her, buying himself some time, "Which, uh, I guess, I kinda expected you to not want me around." He really meant _I kinda expected you to push me away,_ but he conjured more diplomatic terms.

"Exactly the opposite happened," she replied.

"Yeah…I never felt like I lost control of _us_."

"Me neither."

"So now everything's out in the open."

"It is."

"You gonna be okay with that?"

"Absolutely."

…..

After spending Sunday with Noah while Olivia was at work, Ed went to his own apartment to retrieve clothes for the next day, his return to Internal Affairs after a week-long hiatus. The three of them spent Sunday evening together—Olivia had work to do, Carisi was going undercover, so Ed played on the floor with Noah before making dinner. He opened a bottle of wine, wanting to be clear that he wasn't suggesting Olivia completely swear off alcohol. For once in a very long time, the bottle was still mostly full when they went to bed.

They awoke to a bright blue sky Monday morning and both Ed and Olivia wore satisfied, appreciative expressions as they sipped coffee, babbled with Noah, and readied themselves for the return to normalcy.

"I better get dressed," Ed said, noticing the time, "Cole's got someone scheduled for this morning."

"Me too," Olivia lifted Noah out of the high chair and onto the floor. He shadowed his mother as she moved around. "With Carisi going UC, that makes us technically short-staffed. Again."

She took Noah into the bathroom to clean him up. With Noah dressed and ready to go, she left him with his toys and went to get herself ready for the day.

Ed was standing in front of her bedroom mirror, knotting his tie. Maybe it was because it had been several days since she'd seen him in a suit, but he looked extra important today, strong, authoritative…sexy.

Without a word, she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Then, noticing he hadn't yet put on his police officer accoutrements, she found his holstered Glock and his shield. He pretended to be unaffected and fussed with his tie as she deliberately affixed the holster to his belt. Next, she buffed the shield against her t-shirt and slid that on as well, taking extra care to make sure it was straight.

He massaged her shoulders. "Well, _thank you_."

"Thought, maybe, you'd appreciate the assistance."

"Very much appreciated." He kissed her gently, not wanting to start something he didn't have time to finish. "I'll see you later?"

"If we don't catch a case, you certainly will."

Tucker shook his head cockily, "Uh-uh, one way or another, I'll see you, Lieutenant." She smiled sweetly and put her head against his chest.

"I better go."

"Yeah."

Ed gave her one final kiss, said goodbye to Noah, and headed off to work. Unencumbered with the stress of the past week, he strode swiftly and confidently. With both their professional lives and personal lives secure, he and the woman he loved could move forward.

Now, he just had to find the perfect moment to say it.

It was all he could think about.

Three words.

 _I love you._

…

 _ **Okayyyy…so this one is way longer than I anticipated, so the next chap will cover Sheltered Outcasts, Fashionable Crimes, and Assaulting Reality. TWO MORE! #Tuckson**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**ANOTHER LONG A/N BUT IT'S THE PENULTIMATE ONE AND I'VE BEEN DRINKING. FEEL FREE TO SKIP. BUT IF YOU SKIP THE STORY DISAPPEARS.**_

 _ **J/K**_

 _ **Sheltered Outcasts-**_ _Well, I definitely enjoyed sex-party-infiltrating Carisi better than sex-offender-shelter-dwelling Carisi, I'll tell you that right now. Throughout the whole two thirds of the episode I had this nagging_ _sense of loss and yearning, and, guess what?_ _I SIMPLY MISSED SONNY'S FOREHEAD! And I thought my RJB obsession was a little, uh, borderline not normal…ok, that one's way past normal but if you're reading this you're just as bad or worse so anyway…_

 _Again we hearken M's "gray, grey, gray" comment beeeecause this one was gray for me and Carisi, 'cuz I'm the first one to scope out the sex offender registry in my hood AND where I vacation but, ya know what, I kinda had a soft spot for Caskey by the end…however Gregory Searle made my skin curl yet again so there's that._

 _Just as I never realized how much I NEEDED OMB to call Tucker "Ed," I never knew how much I needed Detective Sonny Carisi, Jr. to call OMB "Lieu." I was laughing at that so hard I had to go back and rewatch the ensuing thirty seconds or so. At that point on the original air date I was OMB-ing a bottle of vino so…take that for what it's worth._

 _However, I was still balanced._

 _ **Fashionable Crimes-**_ _Favorite scene? One of y'all kind Twitter people screenshotting Noah's ultimate mean mug at Rollins when she's like, "oh I have gazillions of pictures of Jesse on my phone" and bitches about Carisi and the camera. Oh, FFS, Rollins, what's your problem? I guess that's the attitude we get when a mother wants her baby to resemble Carisi but she actually resembles Declan Murphy. BTW, after my petition to see less clothing on RJB and get #Tuckson married, and see #Tuckson in a REAL kiss, and see #Tuckson enjoying a lazy rainy day with Noah…oh and also return Kim Rollins and also see the resolution of the cops in Community Policing is the petition to BRING BACK THE LOGUE! Maybe for the #Tuckson wedding where Carisi is the photog? Have I mentioned I'd like to see a #Tuckson wedding?_

 _I am not a Rollisi shipper; I get a more brother-sister vibe from the two of them but what the hell do I know? Rollins is…just…sometimes…so…UGH…that last scene was awkward as hell before Carisi saved it. And here we go again into my Carisi/Scanavino fangirl fest. Don't worry, RJB, I still love you best._

 _BUT THIS IS ABOUT #TUCKSON, is it not? Actually, no it's not. It's about MUNCH! But I almost missed Munch because the DUDE IS FRAIL! Are you ok, Richard Belzer? Damn. I was hoping this one would be a little more Munch-centric but I was also hoping to win the lottery and write fic for a living…_

 _If you don't want kids, I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU to listen to Noah whisper "Bye Munch" and still NOT WANT KIDS. Go ahead. Do it. Still no?_

 _Get a parakeet._

 _ **Assaulting Reality**_ _-Dear Everyone, I have made many requests in my Twitter/FF life but never have I made one as serious and as heartfelt (passages) as this. I solemnly retract and rescind every OMB wardrobe request and hereby declare my number one goal is to have the jacket OMB was wearing at the beginning of this episode. If it arrives with Tucker, I am fiiiiiiiine with that._

 _Annnnnnnd, moving on (but I'm still thinking about that jacket, so…)_

 _I am NOT making light of the rape…but DAMN this ep was hilariously satirical and Wendie Malick and Steven Keaton were perfect in their roles as purportedly oblivious yet disgustingly complicit reality show creator people._

 _Just a little #Tuckson in this one but OH. MY. GAWWWWWWD. ELEVEN SECONDS OF HOTNESS HOLY SHIT I STILL GET ALL WEAK IN THE KNEES (Remember that Sisters with Voices song?) THINKING ABOUT…_ _ **SOUNDS ROMANTIC**_ _. OMG I read on Twitter that the scene wasn't even really written so…ugh…best unplanned snippet EVERRRRRR in the history of television and also in entertainment and shipping and everything else on Earth and in the universe._

 _Two Requests:_

 _Can we make Carisi Interruptus a regular thing?_

 _Can we make Carisi Interruptus a regular thing as long as it's not interrupting something I've previously asked for (see above)?_

 _Anybody else envision Adult Jesse Declan Rollins Murphy delivering food to Rollins who is on the couch with Frannie #10 watching Bachelor Season 75? Anyone?_

 _.I usually don't love chapters, but I love this one. You can hate it; but it might be my favorite. Thanks for reading!_

…..

Richie Caskey stepped into the elevator, leaving a contemplative Sonny Carisi, Jr. staring at his distorted reflection in the metal doors. Like everyone else, the young detective preferred black-and-white, open-and-shut cases, and these past two were so far from simple that he wondered if, maybe, going the ADA route was more up his alley. Then again, Barba's job was rarely cut and dry.

It was late and he went back to his desk to grab a few things before leaving for the evening. He saw the Lieutenant still in her office. Glasses on, hand to her forehead, and pen in hand, she appeared busy and intently focused on whatever was in front of her, but he went undercover the very morning she was reinstated and the past week had been a whirlwind—they hadn't had a chance to talk about anything other than the job. Not that he knew Benson to enjoy shooting the breeze, of course.

He popped his head in the doorway and greeted her with his jovial, "Hey Lieu!"

To his surprise, she looked up smiling, "Hey, Carisi. Come on in."

"Sorry to bother you," he said, taking a couple of steps forward, "Caskey just left. I'm on my way out. I'll be in early tomorrow to start on the paperwork for Barba."

"Don't worry about coming in early. You," she furrowed her brow with admiration, "Deserve to sleep in. At _home_."

Carisi grinned, "Yeah, that's for sure. Those shelter beds," he twisted and grimaced, "Something going on with my back for sure. But don't worry. I'm not filing for any type of job-related injury. I'll be fine."

"Hah!" Olivia blurted out, "I wouldn't blame you if you did. Listen. Have a seat."

Suddenly a little apprehensive, Carisi nearly stumbled towards the chair. "What's up?"

"This is the third time you've gone undercover…risking your life…"

Carisi put up a hand, "Ah, nah, I'm just doin' my job."

"No, no. You volunteered for this. And for the sex party."

He smirked slyly, "Who were ya gonna send? _Rollins_?"

At this, they both laughed. Olivia continued. "Well, as your commanding officer, I'm putting your name in for meritorious police duty consideration. That's what I'm working on now. You deserve it. And even if One PP doesn't agree with me, I want you to know how impressed I am with your work."

Carisi's jaw dropped. "Wow, uh, I don't know what to say, Lieu, thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied sincerely. "And one more thing. I talked to everyone else about…about the trafficking ring…and I heard what you did."

Gloom drifted into Carisi's usually-jubilant eyes. "I couldn't let 'em get away with it," he uttered, clearly still disgusted, "Sickening. My whole life I've been around the church. Priests…Catholic school, all 'a that…it was my rock growing up. To not yank that corruption out by the roots was just… _wrong_."

Olivia nodded. "Everyone else was willing to pack up and go home. And you kept fighting," she was sounding more like the old Detective Benson now—her voice soft and encouraging. "No one else was willing to do it, but you did. Nice work."

"Thanks, Lieutenant. It still bothers me, though."

"You'll get through it." The response wasn't glib. Olivia genuinely believed he would. But there was something else she had to tell him. "One last thing, and then please go home and get some rest…about me and Tucker."

"That's none of my business."

"Carisi, I'm sure you've been… _informed_ about Tucker and his past, ah, dealings with SVU."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Carisi screwed up his face, "But he was a victim here too…framed like that…then they were still gonna make him retire? That wasn't right either."

"Well, I know he appreciates your work…and I'm sorry our relationship had to come out when it did…and disrupt the whole squad without you really knowing why. That wasn't fair."

"That wasn't your fault."

Olivia shrugged. Jumping back into SVU so quickly really didn't afford her the time to think about what type of explanation or apology was or was not appropriate. Dodds already knew. Rollins had been so busy prepping Carisi there had been little time for a sit-down with her. Fin was just as guarded with his personal life, so, understanding her wariness to lay hers bare, he adhered to business. She thought he was on the verge of bringing it up in her office earlier, but, instead, he made the parakeet joke and, seconds later, Rollins burst in with the news that the contents of Loomis' locker matched those missing from a rape victim and, with that, their extracurricular conversation ended.

"I wish it would have come out some other way."

"Ah, Lieu, what's done is done. All over…on to the next."

"Yeah," Olivia sighed, "The next…How are you, though? I know going UC in a place like that can be soul crushing."

"It was, but I'm ok," Carisi answered a little too quickly and then recovered with a quip. "Glad to be back in my real clothes though. And my real hairstyle. Now _that_ was rough."

Recognizing he needed a break from the heavy case, Olivia didn't press him further. "I bet. Well, I'm almost finished here. So…you have a good night."

"See ya tomorrow, Lieu!" Carisi said as he turned to leave. "Tell Captain Tucker hello for me."

"Will do," Olivia replied, relishing the normalcy of the parting exchange.

…

A mischievous grin lingered on Fin's face as he and Benson descended to the lobby. He tugged at his tie and shifted his weight from foot to foot. It was nearing the end of business hours and the elevator stopped at every floor, packing its passengers shoulder-to-shoulder. When the doors finally opened at the bottom, the mass of people unclogged itself in one simultaneous burst and then immediately dissipated.

"Need a ride back to the precinct?" Fin asked as he and Benson descended the steps.

"No, I'm good." Olivia's steps slowed.

Fin matched her pace. "Meetin' Tucker?"

"Actually yes. I am." She tucked a section of hair behind her ear. "If you have a little time…want to join us for a drink?"

Fin regarded her appreciatively but declined the offer. "I better not." He squinted at her, playfulness forming in his features as he relaxed and gave in to the urge to tease her a little about Tucker. "I don't wanna be late, and I don't want to _impose_ on your date."

Olivia shook her head, smiling, "It's not a date. And…it's a standing offer."

"Oh I see," he retorted, still ribbing her, "Y'all are _beyond_ the whole dating thing." She blushed and he took a step closer to her. "Seriously, Liv, I'm glad you have someone. You know, to help with that _balance_."

"Thanks, Fin."

"That doesn't mean I wasn't shocked when I realized what was going on."

"I know."

"I kept thinkin'… _Tucker_? One PP's gotta be wrong."

Olivia snickered, "Ok, Fin. I get it."

He looked at her with a rare combination of sincerity and brotherly affection, "You deserve someone to treat you right, Liv. He does that? I'm cool with him."

"He does."

"Alright then." Fin again fussed with his tie. "Lemme go see if I can find someone for me to treat right."

"Whoever it is…she'll be lucky to have you."

Fin bounded off in the direction of his sedan, leaving Olivia standing on the steps surveying the rush hour traffic. In the midst of the early evening cacophony, the Lieutenant delighted in a bubble of satisfaction and serenity that began forming around her as soon as she returned to SVU. Two weeks ago her professional and personal lives were in peril. Now, with a survivor's impenetrable resolve, she walked briskly in the direction of Tucker's office. She'd meet him on the street and they'd walk to their usual pub for a drink.

And she didn't care who saw them.

…

With Carisi and Rollins assigned to prep Sally Landry for the grand jury and no new calls coming in, Benson sent Dodds and Fin home. "I'll wait here for the two of them to get back," she said, "And I'll see you at the courthouse in the morning."

Neither Dodds nor Fin objected at the early dismissal. Munch remained seated at Fin's desk, gazing admiringly at Olivia.

"I'm proud of you, Liv," he said.

Her mouth upturned into a weary smile, "Thanks Munch. Cases like these, though..."

"I know it. Nothing worse than a blatant crime being committed and you can't do anything but wait and see…and be at the mercy of the grand jury."

Olivia flopped down in Carisi's chair. "You want a coffee or something?"

"No, I'm good."

"So what has John Munch been doing with himself?"

"Oh, you know, getting on a plane every few weeks, spending my fortune."

"You can't take it with you."

"No, you cannot." Munch's smile faded and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "But I wasn't out of town for the whole church thing."

"We coulda used you for that case."

"Conspiracy…corruption…it's right up my alley," he acknowledged, amused, but quickly reverted to seriousness, "It must have been tough for you…getting transferred like that."

Olivia twisted her lips, brushing aside the gravity of the ordeal, "We got through it. Barely, but everything turned out ok." The _we_ came out so naturally, she failed to realize it would surprise Munch.

He raised his eyebrows. "Fin said it had something to do with Tucker, but he didn't want to say much else."

"It's not a secret."

"What's not?"

"Me and Tucker."

Munch smiled slyly, "I put two and two together, Liv. After all these years…"

"It surprised me, too."

"He makes you happy?" Munch's voice dripped with paternal affection.

"He does."

"That's wonderful, Liv."

She nodded, near tears.

Munch kept talking and changed the subject, "So, when am I going to meet this little guy everyone's talking about?"

"How about Saturday afternoon? We have the grand jury in the morning tomorrow, so the weekend should be quiet and Dodds is on duty anyway."

"I'll do that."

…

While her squad spent the weekend investigating Alvin and Benno's possible witness tampering, Olivia tidied her apartment for Munch's visit. Toys went in the toy box, books shelved, and dishes hidden away in the dishwasher which she kept forgetting to run. While Noah took a nap, she rummaged through the closet, searching for a framed photograph of her and Munch. It had been taken at Munch's retirement celebration, and she'd never unwrapped it from the framer's careful packaging.

"There it is," she said before extricating herself from the cluttered foyer closet. It was probably time to donate items again—Noah was quickly growing out of clothes and toys.

She set the frame in a conspicuous spot on the shelf. Certainly Munch's keen eye would catch it.

He arrived right on time and promised not to stay long. In the presence of a stranger, Noah retreated to his mother's lap at first, but Munch produced a brightly wrapped present and after that they were best friends.

"So, are you staying in New York long or are you going off to travel the world again?"

"I'm always in and out," Munch said, "But I prefer out…after all these years in the city it's nice to have some peace and quiet. And I don't know where the next international adventure will take me."

"Well, it sure is good to see you. And, Fin, I think he appreciates taking the trip down memory lane."

"We're supposed to have a boys' night out tomorrow," Munch replied with a smile, "But he's a bit of a loner and I go to bed early, so I don't know how much of a night it'll be. But it'll be good to catch up."

"Yeah," Olivia murmured, keeping one eye on Noah.

Munch's eyes drifted to the wall shelves. "That picture from the party?"

"It is."

"You haven't changed," Munch said, "Well, you look the same. But, _Lieutenant_ , _Mommy_ …the last time I saw you…you were leaving with Amaro, answering a call."

"And you roasted me on the way out," Benson reminded him, a teasing grin on her face.

Munch smiled reflectively, "Yeah, that was a fun day. Whatever happened to Cassidy?"

"I don't know. He left IAB, moved out…and I haven't been in touch with him since."

"Sorry to bring it up."

He brought up Cassidy, but she only thought of Ed. "It doesn't bother me."

"You really do look happy, Liv.

"Thanks, John," she replied, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes, "You do, too."

Munch, as promised, didn't stay long and joked he had to go rest up for his night with Fin. "It was nice meeting you, little man," he said, mussing Noah's hair, "Listen Liv, while I'm here, if you need free babysitting, just let me know. I'd be happy to do it…spend a little more time with him."

"Funny you should ask. If this thing drags in until Tuesday, I'm going to be in a bind in the afternoon."

Munch held out his arms, "I'm your guy. You have my number."

"The _same_ number?"

"Yeah," Munch said matter-of-factly, "I stopped changing it monthly after I retired. I'll see ya later, Liv."

"Have fun with Fin tomorrow."

"I'm sure I will."

Not five minutes after Munch left, Tucker arrived. Olivia trailed Noah as he ran to greet him.

"Well, hello everyone," he said with a grin, "I brought wine and pizza."

Olivia took the bags from him. "And a gigantic brownie I see."

"I figured we could all share it."

Tucker removed his coat and shoes while Olivia pulled plates and glasses from the kitchen cabinets. As he lifted Noah in the air and turned him upside down and right again, Ed noticed the new photograph. He understood it had been placed there out of obligation, but a tiny pang of jealousy nipped at him.

"Have a good visit?" He asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"We did," Olivia replied cheerfully, "Did you run into him downstairs? He just left."

"I didn't see him. Probably for the best."

Olivia cocked her head so she could see him better from behind the counter, "What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno."

Olivia abandoned a glass of wine mid-pour and slid her arms around Ed's waist. "You know what he told me?"

"What's that?" Ed asked, interested and intrigued by her flirty intonation.

"He said I look happy.

"Because you are?"

"I am," Olivia raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him. "And not just because you bring wine, pizza, and brownies."

…

"It wasn't a story." Dodds took one last look at Benno and Claire and walked off.

Barba watched him stride away and then turned back to Benson, "I'll see if they'll take a plea…I can be as generous as we want, considering these circumstances. We go to trial? I can't guarantee a conviction."

"Do what you have to do," Benson said, "I'll be right back."

She chased down Dodds who had retreated to the file room and was rifling absent-mindedly through a drawer, most likely to occupy his mind.

"Mike?"

"Yeah, Lieutenant?"

"Anything you want to talk about?"

Dodds pushed the drawer closed gently without removing any of the large accordion files. He leaned against the cabinet. ""Not really. You got the gist. Story of my life is making excuses and protecting my brother—from the cops, from my Dad…I've been doing it since Little League."

"That must have been tough."

Dodds' eyes glistened with sorrow, "It was. It was hard growing up and idolizing my Dad but then trying to mediate between him and my brother. I never understood that. He was always so patient with me, so kind, always teaching and coaching. My brother—didn't fit what my Dad wanted in a son—and he made sure to emphasize that whenever he had a chance."

Olivia looked at him with sympathy and patted his shoulder. "Sounds like you're a good brother," she said softly.

"Yeah," Mike huffed, obviously disagreeing. "At any rate, I see where Benno's mind is. Barba pleading him out?"

"He is, and he's still here if you want to talk to him."

"Nah," Mike replied, "My brother never hurt anyone but himself. Benno did." Dodds forced a laugh. "At least…this is the first SVU case…I feel like justice was really done."

Olivia raised her eyebrows in understanding. "You're doing a great job, Dodds."

"Ya think?"

"You've really grown into the role."

"It hasn't been easy." He failed to meet her eyes and instead stared past her, into the squad room.

She followed his gaze and murmured, "It never is."

…

Olivia trudged to her building reluctantly, happy to see Noah but knowing this would be the last time she'd see her good friend Munch for a while. When she entered the apartment, the living room floor was strewn with toys, but both Noah and Munch greeted her with smiles. They'd had a good time together and Munch prompted Noah to parrot the conspiracy-theorist wisdom he'd imparted.

"Noah, show Mommy…say _why_ …"

" _Whyyy_ ," Noah repeated, leaning against his mother and smiling sweetly.

"You can thank me when he's a fully-functioning anti-dogmatic atheist."

"I'll do that," Benson replied with a laugh."

Munch announced he needed to get going, stood up, and plucked his coat from the back of the armchair. Before leaving, he looked at Benson reflectively and softly said, "Take care of each other."

"We will. You too." Olivia kissed Noah and said, "Say _bye, Munch_."

"Bye, Munch," Noah whispered.

Olivia carried Noah back to the bedroom. They read their nightly books and she placed Noah gently in his bed. He gazed up at her, not sleepy but compliant with the bedtime routine. She stroked his cheek and gazed back at him, her heart filling with a certain type of affection and love she'd discovered only after becoming a mother. When she leaned down to kiss him, he reached up and clasped his tiny hands behind her neck.

"Goodnight, my sweet boy," she cooed in a voice barely above a whisper. "I love you so much."

Turning off the light, she went to change clothes and wait for the other man in her life to arrive.

She loved him, too.

…..

Munch turned up his collar as he exited the building, turned towards Ninth Avenue and almost immediately ran into Ed Tucker.

Tucker stiffened, set his jaw, and eyed Munch, waiting for him to speak first.

Munch quickly buried memories of the litany of perceived sins committed by the IAB investigator. "Hello, Captain Tucker," he said genially.

Taken aback by the collegial greeting, Tucker blinked and returned the hello. Neither man appeared eager to prolong the exchange.

Munch lightly slapped his back and spoke paternally, "Treat her right, Tucker. She's the heart and soul of all things good."

Wordlessly, Tucker nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing but also somewhat stunned the interaction hadn't been more hostile. "Yeah, uh, thanks, Sergeant."

Munch jerked his head in a silent farewell and walked off. Tucker blew a long breath through pursed lips and headed upstairs.

…..

Olivia finished the glass of wine and waved off the bartender when he asked if she wanted another. "Just the dessert menu," she sweetly requested.

Tucker downed the rest of his own drink and nuzzled her behind the ear, "Guess we're having _two_ desserts tonight?"

A pleasant shudder rippled up and down her back, "I guess we are."

The scent of leather stayed with him after he moved back to his own space and he eyed her approvingly. Immediately upon seeing the reddish-brown leather jacket in a window display, he entered the store and made the purchase. Later that night he met her just as she arrived at home with Noah and, in the chaos of getting Noah settled and changing out of her work clothes, she didn't notice him hang it on the coat rack. It went undiscovered until the next morning. The gift shocked her into a stunned silence.

"I saw it yesterday," he whispered as he helped her slide it on, "And I knew you just _had_ to have it."

"It's so… _nice_. _Thank you_."

"You're welcome."

Here in the muted lighting of the bar, she looked even sexier. Ed tried not to stare, but the only sight more appealing than her in that jacket was her in nothing at all.

Halfway through dessert, the low-key pub chatter was pierced with the beginning of _Hearts Desire_. Olivia frowned at the cheesy, contrived lines.

 _Melanie, how are you feeling?_

 _Really great. Our date…was magical._

 _Maybe for you, but I know Ryan is falling for me._

"I'm sorry," she said to the bartender, and despite others at the bar apparently paying attention to the show, asked, "Will you turn this off?"

"Or just throw the TV out?" Tucker added. For him, television meant news or documentaries, maybe an old-school sitcom or two…certainly not these half-naked twenty-somethings pretending to fall in love in front of millions of people.

"Who actually watches this show?" Benson asked rhetorically, to no one in particular.

After finishing their desserts and coffees, they walked arm-in-arm towards her apartment, enjoying the balmy early-spring evening and the close proximity of one another. Ed offered to hail a cab, but Olivia said she was fine with walking. It was a nice night and, even though she'd lived in Manhattan her whole life, there was something invigorating about the city streets. The ambiance was even better when you were navigating them with the man you loved.

That part, of course, was not verbalized.

Ed's silence didn't raise any suspicions with Olivia. They often shared reflective moments like this, and it was almost as intimate as some of their deep conversations. They both assumed the other's thoughts were about their steadily strengthening bond, and, as if to prove it, by the time they arrived at their final destination, usually her place, they were so close together that their collective gait was slightly impeded.

Tonight's route took them across West 47th Street. Waiting for the light to change at one of the avenues, Ed casually kissed Olivia's head, and when he looked up, something caught his eye. It was the display of one of the neighborhood's many jewelers. He hadn't noticed it when they passed because of construction scaffolding, but this angle afforded him a view of an advertising placard—a man on bended knee with ring in hand...his prospective fiancée gawking at him and at the bauble, simultaneously shocked and thrilled.

Ed kissed Olivia again so he could take another glance at the concocted scene, but the light changed and Olivia proceeded ahead with the rest of the crowd, nearly dragging Ed behind her.

"Something the matter?" She asked, looking up at him.

He peeled his eyes from the sign. "Nah. I'm fine." He reassured her with a smile.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Olivia took his word for it and clutched his arm more tightly. "Do we have to stop at your place?"

Tucker said no. Yesterday after picking up his dry cleaning, he'd brought it directly to her apartment. Remembering the plastic-wrapped bundle hanging on her closet door, Olivia smiled. She chattered on about something…Ed hoped his distant, stock responses wouldn't signal alarm, but he suddenly had more serious things on his mind.

Certainly, it was too soon to bring up marriage. But that didn't mean he couldn't start brainstorming lines for a future proposal. So, as they walked, Ed only partially paid attention to their small talk, hoping the bigger picture excused his inattentiveness.

He couldn't get that placard out of his head.

…

"More reality TV today?"

Olivia answered as she dried her face with a towel, muffling her words. Tucker stepped out of the shower and approached her from behind, kissing her neck and holding her close.

"What was that, Lieutenant?"

The reverberations from his voice and the movement of his lips behind her ear induced shivers. Ed persisted, lightly biting at her earlobe and then trailing kisses down her shoulder. "C'mon," he droned into her skin, "Whadja say?"

She sunk into him, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. "I _said…_ unfortunately…it's a circus."

"I know." At the end of each day Olivia regaled Ed with the latest developments, including Rollins' fangirling, her apparent extracurricular relationship with Carisi, and her extreme frustration with superficial, twenty-something reality stars. If it weren't for the rape, the whole thing would be comical.

Olivia turned around, put her palms on his pecs, and tilted her head for a kiss. "I have to get ready."

"I'll get Noah."

"Thank you."

Another kiss.

He heard the drone of the hair dryer as he hoisted Noah from his bed.

"Mornin' bud!"

Bleary eyed, Noah managed a slight smile, but then tucked his face into Ed's neck. He carried the boy to the kitchen and made coffee one-handed.

A short time later, Olivia emerged from the bedroom clad in a red blouse and black suit. Tucker immediately stopped shoving items into Noah's bag and gawked at her. Noah's eyes darted back and forth between the adults, confused by the sudden interruption in movement and conversation.

Olivia furrowed her brow. "Everything alright?"

"You look great," Tucker gasped.

"Well, thank you," she said casually and went about arranging her own bag.

Tucker didn't take his eyes off her. "I mean, you're always beautiful…but…that _color_."

Olivia looked down at her red blouse. "I guess I haven't worn this very often."

"I've never seen you in it."

She batted her eyes at him flirtatiously, "Well, _Captain_ , since you like it…I'll put it in the regular rotation."

He winked. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I, uh, his bag's ready to go, I think," Ed carefully rifled through the contents—snacks, extra clothes, pull-ups, a few toys. While Noah ate breakfast and Olivia finished getting ready he hadn't had much to do, so he thought he'd help out. Now he worried he may have screwed up the job so badly it actually created more work for Olivia.

She sidled up to him. "It's perfect."

"You didn't look."

"I'm sure it's perfect." She zipped the bag closed and placed it next to her purse.

"Well, I should probably get goin," Ed said, smirking as he tugged at her waist. "C'mere."

This parting kiss immediately felt different than the dozens they'd previously shared. Olivia, apparently, also sensed the change because, instead of ending it chastely, she cupped the back of his head, parted her lips, and hitched her other thumb on his waistband.

"Mmmm," Ed droned, his lips still fused to hers, " _Lieutenant_."

When they finally separated, Olivia grinned broadly and he returned the grin, still holding her. Dizzy with affection and unapologetically in love, he took a deep breath and went for it.

"I love you, Liv."

Still grinning, she bit her lip and cocked her eyebrow, obviously liking what she'd just heard.

Her response arrived without delay. "I love you, too."

Relieved and elated, he kissed her again and released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. Olivia grabbed his hand.

"You're shaking."

"I was nervous."

"Don't be."

"It's just…I've wanted to say it for a while now…but it never felt like the timing was right."

"I know."

 _She knows?_

She'd been battling the same dilemma.

" _So_ ," he rasped, still beaming, "See you later? Call me after you pick up Noah?"

"I'll do that."

He gave her one last kiss and she carefully wiped traces of lipstick from his mouth.

"Bye," he half-whispered, locking his blue eyes on her one last time before leaving.

"Bye," she replied in the same tone.

"Bye-Bye!" Noah exclaimed, rushing to hug Ed's legs.

He was running late, but, nevertheless, he scooped Noah and swung him around. "Bye, bud! Have a good day!"

Noah giggled and splayed his arms out, enjoying being "flown." He made airplane sounds until Ed put him down. "And…we come in for the landing," Tucker said.

"Boom!" Noah exclaimed. "Again!"

"No, sweet Noah, Ed has to go," Olivia picked him up, "And so do we. Let's go get your coat on."

"We'll fly tonight," Ed assured the boy while donning his blazer. "Love you both," he added before closing the door behind him.

Olivia pressed Noah's head to hers.

 _Love you both_.

…..

Graham Turco's arrest and the need to keep Melanie away from the Princes caused Olivia to change her evening plans. She called Lucy and dispatched her to retrieve Noah from day care. Predicting a late-evening arrival, she coupled dinner instructions with profuse gratitude. Olivia hated to think about the day when Lucy would move on to the next stage of her life.

She called Ed and apologetically explained the situation.

"No need to apologize," He said, "I have some things to tie up here. Why don't I swing by later and pick you up. We'll figure it out from there?"

Olivia smiled into the phone. Of course he would be understanding, any veteran cop would be, but his voice soothed her to the point that she almost forgot she was sitting in her office and in crosshairs of SVU's newest murky investigation. She ran through an approximate timetable, and, while she didn't shirk duties, she did go about prepping Melanie for the grand jury with remarkable expediency.

Later on, he entered her office, closed the door, and held out a toy NYPD helicopter. A hint of dejection in his eyes detracted from his otherwise high spirits.

"Hey," She stood, peeled off her glasses, and took a few steps in his direction before stopping to study him more closely, "What's wrong?"

"Nothin," he muttered with a shrug, "Just feel bad, ya know, I told Noah we'd fly. He's probably in bed by now though, right? I picked up this on the way out to make up for it."

Noah was no stranger to altered plans, but Olivia understood Ed's disappointment all too well. "You can fly tomorrow," she consoled, running her hand along his arm. "And he'll love this."

"Yeah." Olivia eyed him with a combination of intense adoration and raw lust as he set the chopper on the desk and fumbled with its propellers. "So whaddya feel like eating?"

 _Look at him_ , she thought, barely able to keep her hands to herself. He cast his eyes downward, partially bummed out about Noah and a little nervous, maybe wondering if there'd be some awkwardness between them after the morning's not-one-but-two I-love-yous.

"I don't know," she replied in a sing-songy voice, not really caring what they ate, "That place the other night was good."

Ed took out his phone and found the restaurant's website, "They deliver. We can order in…have it ready by the time we get to your place?"

"Sounds romantic."

Shyly, he looked up and smiled. Olivia braced for the ensuing kiss but Carisi burst in, and Ed calmly stepped away from her albeit not very far.

"Hey, Lieu—oop, sorry didn't meanta interrupt, but…you gotta see this."

Olivia stammered and mumbled and followed Carisi into the squad room where _Hearts Desire_ was airing. To her horror, the Princes flipped the entire investigation on its head, making themselves look like the heroes. They cast Lizzie Bauer, their producer, in the worst light possible, claiming she hid incriminating evidence from SVU, and the Princes lauded themselves and their team for solving the case when the NYPD could not. Earlier that day at SVU, the Princes wore hidden cameras and that footage was aired as well, stunning Barba and infuriating Benson. As soon as she realized they'd been secretly filmed, she instinctively gravitated to Tucker where she fumed until, finally, she'd had enough.

"Turn that off," she hissed. Ed followed her into her office. Shaking her head, she furiously grabbed her bag and slammed her laptop closed. "Let's go."

Tucker let her seethe until they were in the car. There, he slid over and put a protective arm around her shoulders. Sensing she was in no mood for words of wisdom or other banal attempts at boosting her spirits, he whispered his new favorite declaration into her ear.

" _I love you_."

Hearing this, the tension clawing at her mind and body relaxed, and she pressed her forehead against his. Even in the darkness, his blue eyes sparkled and danced with hope, encouragement, and confidence.

He loved her.

Surely that sentiment would push the day's frustrations aside, at least for the rest of the night. But, of course, Olivia was too seasoned a cop to allow herself to be assuaged by romance, wasn't she? In the seconds of silence, Tucker worried she'd laugh and brush it off and spew venom about the Princes and reality television and…

She kissed him. Firmly. Assuredly. With enough passion to clear his mind of every doubt he'd just rattled off in his head.

At a pause, Tucker murmured, "Food's on its way, Lieutenant. You wanna stay here, or…"

"We should probably go." She said through a laugh, knowing that if she'd requested they stay in the car he would've happily obliged.

Sure enough, he quipped, "I really don't mind staying here, I just need to call—"

" _Ed_."

"Alright, alright," he slid back behind the wheel, smirking uncontrollably. He felt her eyes fixate on him as he steered out of the parking space and onto the street. Stealing a quick glance, he uttered a slow, flirty, " _Yeeeess_?"

"Nothing," she replied with a shrug, still ogling, "I love you." Returning his _I love you_ this morning came naturally, reflexively, and without a second thought. Today had not been filled with many idle moments, but in the few lulls that did occur, she promised herself that she'd test the waters this evening by saying it first, needing the extra assurance that she could initiate the phrase just as easily as she'd volleyed it back to Ed this morning.

Sensing her need for a kind of resolute solitude at this new chapter in their lives, Ed remained silent, still smiling, and simply reached over to hold her hand.

He held it the entire way home.

…

 **You know where this is going…one more.**

 **#Tuckson**

 **#Sept21**

 **#SVU**

 **#ThisHasBeenFun**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Too bad the S17 DVD already went on sale… We should've included a printed copy of this fic as an insert!**_

 _ **Intersecting Lives**_ — _Well, well, well, where to start? With the most obvious foreshadowing everrr? Joint Terrorism will getcha killed…SVU work won't 'cuz it hasn't happened in 17 seasons but Andy Karl had a gig in London and we need to further explore Olivia's growth as a leader by making her face this latest round of awfulness, so…_

 _I do appreciate how Chief Dodds got all smug when he announced his boy was coming on as the Sarge thinking he'd be a tempering influence but, actually, Mike tried to undermine Daddy multiple times, so, I apologize from the bottom of my heart, Mike, for thinking you were someone not to be trusted. What can I say? I come from the Ed Tucker school of Not-Even-My-90 y/o Grandmother-Is-Beyond-Suspicion._

 _I hope Robert Barone got paid a nice little bundle for these two eps because he is now in the Dallas Roberts, Pablo Schreiber and Co. category of SVU guest stars who are basically dead to me (I 100% acknowledge that they don't give a fuck…but still…)_

 _Speaking of Robert Barone, when he picks up Charisse the first time, in one of the shots, there's a baby doll splayed across the dashboard…thank you prop people for that soccer-dad-meets-sexual-predator juxtaposition._

 _Despite the intensity of the sting op, I, of course, did not miss Benson's sweater-leather jacket combo and I fully intend to wear a getup like that as soon as the heat in the southeastern USA abates which will probably be never so at least I'm saving a few hundred bucks._

 _And…and the very very very least…Charisse's call to Ken saved Fin from the hipster café menu and also he can stay out of PetSmart for the time being and, instead, drop some Benjamins at Babies R Us._

" _Elsa." Every once in a while that scene pops into my mind and I LOL randomly and it's usually when I really shouldn't be laughing out loud. Oh who cares, they all know I'm crazy by now._

 _Congrats, Carisi, but stay your cute ass at SVU forevaaahhh, please and grazie. And, Barba? WTF? I spent all summer worried about you._

 _I realize I'm taking my eye off the ball here, but…did they end up going to lunch?_

 _ **Heartfelt Passages**_ _—Look._

 _And I am very serious about this. Every single episode with a whole bunch of #Tuckson also includes a whole bunch of other shit I don't like, so it is only fair that the writers counter this with a 120-second or so clip (at minimum) of the following (combinations are suggested and encouraged):_

 _-#Tuckson bedtime snuggle_

 _-#Tuckson morning snuggle_

 _-#TucksoNoah lazy morning/afternoon/evening_

 _-Tucker reading to Noah_

 _-Tucker playing with Noah at the park_

 _-#Tuckson "I love you"_

 _-#Tuckson proposal_

 _-#Tuckson baby….JUST KIDDING HAHAHAHAHAHA_

 _Did we know Mike had Alice before this two-parter? I totally thought he was maybe screwing Rollins after her it-wasn't-so-bad comment at the end of UA._

 _Dear Dr. Peter Lindstrom, I have always thought of you as a creepy, icky, and smarmy weirdo who looks at OMB with an offensive combination of affection, admiration, scrutiny, and lust but I WILL TELL YOU WHAT, BROTHER…you hit the nail ON THE FUCKING HEAD with that sesh. "I know you think you know everything." And the Emmy for best line from a fictional shrink goes to…well, I guess it would be going to the writers, so, congrats, WL and JM._

 _I literally held my breath from "I just feel so exhausted" until little Noah was swinging in the shadows of the Statue of Liberty. I was holding my breath because…a) I was going to combust if I did not see a #Tuckson kiss and b)BEFORE the #Tuckson kiss I thought we were getting an unexpected #Tuckson proposal and c) BEFORE the #Tuckson kiss and AFTER the what-I-thought-was-a-proposal, Tucker suggested Paris and d) "I like it" and e) "Olivia Margaret Benson" and f) isn't this show supposed to be a half hour longer 'cuz I wanna know more about Tucker's trust issues and g) "the three of us" AND THEN WHEN THEY KISSED…Oh. My. Gawwwwwd. I was jumping up and down and clapping my hands and tweeting and giggling and good thing the hubs was out drinking that night cuz he's never seen me that giddy…and I'll leave that right there._

 _So…the "Good Luck Sgt. Dodds" sign gonna still be there in 18.1 or nah?_

 _The hallway, the Dodds breakdown, the ashen mini Dodds, the Alice, the "I was hoping we would meet at the wedding," the Barisi shot, the Tucker at the bar with the squad, OMB's tears, the "Big Dog," ok, ok, that's enough…the whole ep, Ok? Beat that, Rick Eid._

 _The Statue of Liberty…Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning for #Tuckson happiness forever and ever…yeah, I'm pretty sure that's how it goes. That Emma Lazarus sure was a prescient gal…_

 _Holy motherfucking shit this is LONG. I couldn't stop. I actually cut some parts, too. And I didn't want to split it into two chapters._

 _Lastly, the response to Truce has been amazing. I really only intended it to be a oneshot and it exploded into…this. I hope the final chapter doesn't disappoint, although, IMO, the Community Policing car makeout session and the previous chap cannot be topped._

 _Oh, wait, really, lastly, thanks to my #Tuckson sister JB for your input because I was seriously about to delete the whole fucking thing and start over._

 _On that encouraging note…here's the final chapter…_

….

Marketing didn't typically sway Ed Tucker. In fact, he prided himself on his impervious nature and his ability to purchase items on his own accord rather than in response to a catchy tag line. So, when he found himself wandering around the diamond district in order to find the jeweler whose placard distracted him a few nights ago, he had to chuckle a little. Olivia Benson's presence in his life had certainly elicited some uncharacteristic behaviors.

Also, he missed her and Noah. They'd spent the past few nights apart, duty called, disrupting the pleasant domestic routine they'd settled into recently. Given the nature of their jobs, that was to be expected from time to time, but accepting unpredictability didn't lessen his desire to be with the two of them.

Tucker window-shopped along 47th Street, hoping the perfect ring would simply jump out at him just as the placard had done a few evenings ago. Once he had the ring, he applied the same logic when thinking about timing the proposal. Just like the _I love you_ , he'd wait for the right moment, and it would be _so right_ he wouldn't have to think twice about it. Again, he laughed at this diversion from his typical, calculated, practical decision-making process, but, hey, he hadn't planned on bumping into Olivia that night he saw her at the bar nor had he planned much else that had happened between the two of them. Taking things in stride seemed to work. Why should the approach to asking her the most important question of his or her lifetime be any different?

He held onto his phone in his jacket pocket in case she called, not that she told him she would call, but sometimes she spontaneously suggested lunch or a coffee, or, since today was Friday, that she sneak out early so they could have a quiet drink in one of his favorite dive bars before picking up Noah and settling in for the night.

The only caller on this afternoon, though, was Sergeant Draper. Internal Affairs needed Captain Tucker at the office as soon as possible. The ring would have to be purchased at a later date.

….

"You get your taxes done?" Tucker asked before taking the first bite of his calzone, "Ah! _Da—"_ he caught himself just before finishing the _damn_ , "That's hot. Be careful with yours."

Olivia had already attacked her portion with a knife and fork, separating a few bites for Noah who had been fed earlier but looked extremely interested in the food Ed brought over.

"They've been done," she replied, "But you have until Monday if you haven't filed." She motioned to Noah, "C'mere, sweet boy. Want some?"

Ed brushed off the concern, "Nah, my guy takes care of all that."

"Mine too."

"Your guy any good?"

Olivia smiled at Ed's ability to flirt even when discussing the most mundane topics. He simpered at her and his eyes glistened and crinkled slightly because of the smile.

"I think he's pretty good."

"Well, if he has _Lieutenant Benson's_ endorsement…" He leaned over for a kiss instead of finishing the sentence. Noah stood between them, one hand on Olivia's knee and the other on Ed's, waiting patiently for his mother to feed him another bite. Ed saw him first as they separated and popped a piece of his calzone into the boy's waiting mouth. "Good, pal?"

Noah nodded, chewed, and hustled over to his toys. He dragged a miniature xylophone over to the table and handed it to Ed. "Alright, we'll play this for a while."

"Ed, _eat_ ," Olivia protested.

"We can jam a little first."

The discordant sounds reverberated throughout the living room for a few minutes before Noah got bored and moved on to other things.

After they finished eating, Ed cleared the remnants of their meal and poured them each a bourbon. He carefully added three ice cubes to Olivia's glass and pressed it against her cheek from behind the couch before handing it to her. She jerked at the frigid shock then leaned her head back, requesting another kiss which Ed gladly fulfilled.

They watched Noah construct a tower with blocks and then ram it with his dump truck. He repeated this a few times before bringing a puzzle over to the coffee table only to abandon it for his bowling set. Olivia moved to the floor to reset the pins for him. After several rolls, she announced it was time to get ready for bed.

"Bedtime, Noah. PJs then we'll read."

Noah's face contorted into a stubborn frown and he ran away from his mother, circling the couch, only to end up in her arms when he appeared on the other side. He squirmed and whined and reached out towards Ed who eagerly plucked him from her arms. "Night, bud," he croaked. Noah had a death grip around his neck.

"C'mon, little man," Olivia coaxed.

Noah refused to let go and Ed stood up. "Ok if I help tonight?" Even though he'd spent many nights at the apartment, bedtime had always been a Noah-Mommy thing and Ed was cognizant about overstepping his bounds.

"Of course," Olivia replied, thinking she should be, perhaps, a little jealous Noah clung to Ed so tightly, but instead she led them to the back of the apartment where Noah, conceding defeat, unglued himself from Ed and allowed Olivia to change his clothes.

"You two read," he said softly as Noah examined the bookshelves. He mussed Noah's hair and kissed the top of Olivia's head before retreating to the living room.

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia reappeared with the iPad. She set it on the side table and nestled herself against Ed. "I have to go in to work tomorrow," she ruefully reported. "Lucy'll be here at nine."

"Alright. What happened today?" Olivia wasn't supposed to be on duty this weekend, so he assumed whatever occurred was something more than the run-of-the-mill SVU crime.

"Former inmate accused a Rikers CO of rape."

"That's not surprising."

"And it's also not surprising she's terrified."

"Unfortunately, you're right. Those guys…they're all dirty. Everyone knows it."

Olivia played with the hem of Ed's untucked shirt. "They're that good at covering it up?"

"Apparently," Ed sniffed, annoyed with any type of corruption, but especially the blatant, brazen variety, "And they'll sniff out any UC you try to put in there."

Hearing _UC_ , Olivia tensed a little and, for the second or third time that day, she flashed back to Sealview.

"Liv, what's wrong?"

Fin and Olivia had exchanged knowing glances as Charisse recounted her abuse at the hands of Gary Munson. They left the hospital in silence after taking her statement, but before they got back into the car, Fin stopped her.

"Hey, Liv, you ok?"

"Yeah. Her story…the COs having complete control…a little too close to—"

"I know. We'll get 'em."

Fin didn't want to relive it, but Olivia had no choice. While her squad combed through Munson's records and past reports of misconduct at Rikers, she had to fight flashbacks each time they deposited another file on her desk or tossed another verbal update her way. Futilely, she buried herself in the work, but Lowell Harris' face kept appearing in the officers' jackets. Finally, she decided to call it a night, hoping a fresh start tomorrow would help her focus on the current case and rebury the old one.

Ed gently ran his fingertips up and down her arm, patiently waiting for an answer.

Exhaling, she asked, "Remember the time you asked me why I'd seen a psychiatrist?"

He remembered but wasn't anxious to relive that day—the day he arrested her. "Mmmhmmm," he droned, suddenly worried. If she chose to go back to that point in their history, something must really be bothering her.

"You were…partially right…I was assaulted…but it didn't go down how you guessed."

Ed sat up so he could look at her and when his eyes met hers, she nearly recoiled at the abundance of remorse in his expression. "Ed, we've been through this, I—"

"I'm never gonna forgive myself for the way I went after you."

The tables temporarily turned and Olivia became one offering consolation rather than the one receiving it. "Ed, stop. I forgave you a long time ago, remember?"

"Yeah," he said, his cheekbones and jaw relaxing a bit before hardening again as he simultaneously became numb and enraged as he processed what she said.

 _I was assaulted._

He'd used her job against her in an interrogation, and she had actually been assaulted. It made everything worse. Guilt flooded his conscience.

"You didn't know," she said, reading his mind. "But…I was working undercover at Sealview…and…I was…very nearly…almost raped."

Her words sickened him on two levels. First, he wanted to kill whoever it was who almost raped her. Second, he wanted to beat himself to a pulp for so flippantly tossing her PTSD and shrink sessions around the interrogation room, oblivious to the terrifying circumstances.

"Liv, I'm so sorry. I feel…even more terrible about that day," he hugged her firmly before holding her again at arm's length, "And _you_. Today? What happened? Flashbacks?"

"A few."

Ed studied her. "How bad?"

"Not that bad…it was just…his face…the pictures of the Rikers COs, I could see his face in them."

"What do you do?" He asked, genuinely trying to understand her coping mechanisms, "When that happens?"

"Today I went home…got Noah…got my mind off it. Remembered to breathe."

"Now your mind's back on it." Ed looked disgusted with himself, "Thanks to me," he muttered bitterly.

Again, Olivia flipped roles. "No, not because of you."

"I said _UC_."

Olivia couldn't help but let out a gentle laugh, "It's the case, not the _word_. And it's the Rikers COs, not _you_."

"When I said that, those years ago, did it come back?"

"No."

"Not even when you were in holding?"

"I wasn't there for long."

"God, Liv, I'm so sorry."

At Olivia's best estimate, this was the tenth or eleventh time he'd apologized for some aspect of the arrest, but the revelation that his hypothetical scenario wasn't actually all that hypothetical deeply affected him. Ed shook his head and cast his eyes downward, heavy with shame.

She nestled back into him.

"This case," he said softly, "You gonna be ok?"

"I'll be fine. Especially if we get an indictment, if we can make the charges stick…if I can prove to the vic I believe her and I'm going to fight for her."

"You'll tell me if something else happens?"

"Yeah."

"And if you need anything?"

"I'll tell you."

"Liv?"

She lifted her head from his chest. "Please don't say you're sorry again."

To her relief and pleasure, he was smirking now and the flirtatious glint returned to his eyes. "I was gonna say _I love you_."

"No you weren't."

Ed groaned, acknowledging the fib. She was too good. Too perceptive. He gave her a slightly-more-than-chaste kiss and pulled away slowly, biting at her lower lip. "I love you," he earnestly declared, boring into her eyes, past the brown irises, deep into her soul.

"I love you, t—"

Before she could get out the _too_ , Ed's lips were on hers again and he held her possessively as he kissed her, loosening his grip only when she insisted they move to the bedroom.

….

Benson and the squad worked all through the weekend, but the investigation produced no useful evidence. Barba finally went to extremes and lowered the bail for three additional victims only to have them refuse to testify against the monolithic network of corrupt, coercive corrections officers.

Benson and Fin finally tracked down Charisse after Ken fretted she'd gone AWOL and she agreed to help them set up Munson. Fin spent Monday afternoon and evening prepping her at the precinct with Ken's assistance. It was after nine o'clock when he came into the Lieutenant's office.

"Ken's taking her home to her mother's house," he reported, "She gave me her word she'd show up tomorrow."

"How'd she do?"

"She's scared," he replied.

"Understandably so." Benson rubbed her forehead. "Look at what she's been through—raped repeatedly, then falsely arrested, now we're asking her to put herself in harm's way again. It'd be easier for her to walk away."

"Yeah, but, like you said, she does that…there's no chance."

"Right." Fin dawdled in the doorway and Olivia remembered his lunch with Ken. "Hey, is everything ok with Ken? This came up all of a sudden and I forgot to ask."

Fin broke into a proud grin, "Yeah, everything's good. He and Alejandro are having a baby. Surrogate's three months along…with my grandson."

"Wow, Fin! That's great!" Olivia rushed over to hug him. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. I'll have something to contribute to your little baby pictures club now."

Olivia laughed, "Yes you will, _grandpa_."

"Nah," Fin screwed up his face, "Gonna be Fin. Always Fin. I can't do the Grandpa label."

"Can you do the Sergeant's label?"

The lighthearted conversation took on a more serious overtone. "How long has Dodds been plannin' on leavin?"

Olivia pressed her lips together, "I think he's had it in his mind since earlier this year. And the Chief always spoke of him in…temporary terms."

"You really want me on as your number two?"

"I did before and I do now."

"I'll think about it."

Olivia didn't hide her skepticism.

"Seriously, Liv. I'll think about it."

"Good," Olivia snapped her laptop closed, "And good work with Charisse. I'll see you early tomorrow. She'll call him early?"

"Yeah…that's when he tracks her down. Leaves early, probably tellin' his wife and kids he's gettin' overtime and then goes hunting."

"Okay."

"We sure are makin' the rounds…judges, the Catholic Church, Vice…"

"Yeah," she said through a deep, exasperated breath, "Let's hope nobody gets _transferred_ this time."

Fin winked at her before taking a few backwards steps out of her office, "Just make sure you keep IAB in the loop."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Fin."

….

Olivia changed clothes and checked on Noah before collapsing on the couch with a glass of wine and her phone. Her eyelids drooped as she waited for Ed to pick up, and she scrambled, trying to find a polite way of telling him there was little reason for him to come over. She'd be asleep soon, and the sting was going down early tomorrow.

As the early evening gave way to late night, Ed knew his chances for seeing Olivia were dwindling. The past weekend had been anything but leisurely with Olivia fretting about Dodds' abrupt departure and working almost round-the-clock on the seemingly impossible task of penetrating the closed ranks at Rikers. Noah had been in Lucy's care most of the weekend; Ed was still gun shy about offering to stay with Noah for long segments of time even though he badly wanted to own that role. There were still some unchartered waters out there, and Olivia had enough to worry about at work without Ed making waves in her personal life.

When they were apart, at the very least, one of them sent the other a goodnight text. Predicting she'd be exhausted, Ed didn't expect a call and he was dozing himself when he heard his muffled ringtone from under his partially-read _New York Times_.

" _Lieutenant_ ," he answered formally, "I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"I know. It's been crazy. I'm sorry."

"Liv, you don't have to apologize. Ever."

"I feel like I do. To you and to Noah."

" _Hey_ ," he countered, "You never have to apologize to me."

"I feel like I'm spinning my wheels here. It's going nowhere. All this time…and for what?"

"Most of the time, you and your squad are the only people who believe the vics," he countered, "You want your kid to grow up in a world that's safe…that's what you do…make it safe."

"I wish it was that simple."

"It's never that simple…but Noah will grow up knowing how important his mother is... how hard she works."

"What about you?"

"I'm grown up," Ed joked, then, hearing only silence, switched back to sincerity, "I understand…at least…the cop part of it, but I don't think I could ever fully comprehend what you and your squad do, Liv. You're good at it. It takes incredibly skilled people to do what you do."

"I guess I meant…sometimes I don't feel like there's enough room…for everyone."

Ed did not like that comment. Enough room? What exactly did _that_ mean? "There're always times like this. But it'll be over eventually."

"Until the next one," she muttered pessimistically.

"Well… if that's the way you wanna see it."

"What other way is there?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes."

"I don't…when I'm with you…I don't think about everything that could happen to interrupt whatever it is we're doin'…I'm just _with you_."

To Olivia, the comment stung a little because she accepted it with the implication that he believed part of her was somewhere else when they were together. What troubled her more was that he was right.

"So much of me is the job," she mumbled, thinking out loud.

"Sure, but who you are makes you good at it, not the other way around."

Olivia contemplated this for a minute, and Ed sat up rubbing his forehead vigorously, hoping they weren't decelerating as a couple—the one-step-forward-two-steps-back characterization of their early days, he thought, had been tossed aside forever. He loved her, but this mood obviously indicated doubt and maybe a little fear, rooted in the fact that her personal life was the only domain in which she lacked complete confidence both in herself and in the other person.

Ed paced the living room. Nervous now, he grabbed the box, flipped it open, and took out the ring he'd purchased earlier that day. It was stunning without being ostentatious. Elegant but not fragile.

Until now, when he sensed her retracting, he let her drift into isolation, thinking a dogged pursuit would create resentment rather than prove devotion. However, they'd leveled up, and he couldn't let her wallow in self-doubt, especially while working this particular case.

"I want to see you tomorrow," he declared, leaving no room for her to decline, "Even if it's just for a few minutes."

"We're starting early…Mun—"

"I want to see you. I don't care if it's in the middle of the night."

Olivia relented. "Okay."

Ed twirled the ring between his thumb and index finger, admiring it, imagining it on her finger. Smirking as if she could see him, he rasped into the phone, "Get some sleep, Lieutenant. I'll see you tomorrow."

Olivia closed her eyes and leaned back into the throw pillows. The flirty swagger in Ed's voice gave away his facial expression, she knew the classic Tucker smirk was plastered across his face and she wished she would have invited him over.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she murmured.

"Good. Night, Liv."

"Goodnight."

She ended the call and went to bed, grateful to be exhausted _and_ sleepy. For once, she wouldn't lay there staring at the ceiling fighting to clear the thoughts racing through her mind. She took one more glance at a snoozing Noah, and it was only a matter of minutes before she, too, was in the midst of a peaceful slumber.

Back in the living room, on the coffee table, her glass of wine sat untouched.

….

Benson left the courthouse in a huff with Carisi and Fin. Her displeasure existed on several levels. The judge set bail too low, Lisa Munson seethed with denial, and Munson's representation—both union and legal—presented a foreboding obstacle for Barba who, nevertheless, remained steadfast.

"Get me everything you can," he muttered to Olivia as he briskly made his way out of the courtroom on his way to another hearing, "I'll see you first thing tomorrow morning."

His optimism conflicted with the daunting reality—the only cooperating witness was Charisse whose credibility would easily be called into question by even the least competent defense attorney, and, again, Munson had a wall of loyal rank-and-file behind him.

"Where you want us to start, Liv?" Fin asked.

"Start with his car—have CSU go over it with a fine-toothed comb. Get his EZ Pass, everything. We need to put him in her neighborhood. Fin, re-interview Charisse…get every detail. _Everything_. The less we have to rely on her testimony, the better." Olivia hated the last statement, but it was true. Very often, the line between justice and the criminal act was thick, muddied, and the legal maneuvering diminished the severity of trauma endured by the victim.

The three of them rode together to the precinct and Olivia stayed a little while longer; she had trouble peeling herself away from the investigation. The evidence they'd collected so far was flimsy and not nearly enough for Barba to mount a convincing prosecution. After Dodds insisted they would have to play the waiting game for most of the evening and through the night, she finally gathered her things and departed.

….

Tucker nursed a bourbon at the appointed meeting place and absent-mindedly paged through his phone. At his fingertips was an endless stream of news and connections to the outside world, but his only focus at the moment was how desperate he was to see Olivia. Since the church scandal's resolution, they'd spent only a smattering of nights apart, and today marked five consecutive days without any physical contact. The separation pained him.

Again he found himself ahead of her and caught between his vision and her cautiousness. Determining next steps presented dilemma after dilemma. When should he suggest they move in together? Should he tote the ring with him at all times, in case that longed-for fateful moment presented itself? The instant when he just _knew_ the timing was right? Was he saying _I love you too_ much? Too little? Did she believe him when he said it? Did he believe her?

Tucker had been so involved in his quandaries that he failed to hear the door creak open. The brief gust of chilly April air rendered no reaction either. Only her presence and her words brought him back to Earth.

"Is that seat taken?"

He played it casual but his smirk broadened into a wide smile. "All yours."

She sat down. They gave each other a silent once-over and then broke into a collective embarrassed chuckle.

"Feels like it's been awhile," Olivia remarked.

Ed grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. "You're right." He kept his eyes open as he kissed her. "Thanks for comin.' I know you're probably anxious to get home to Noah."

"He's at day care."

Ed checked the time. They didn't have long. "Start with this," he slid his barely-touched glass over to her and jerked his head at the bartender for another.

"Thanks," Olivia took a sip, "So we'll have a couple here and go get him?"

Inside, the invitation warmed his heart; outwardly, he played it off nonchalantly, "Yeah, yeah…we'll pick up food on the way? I skipped lunch."

With that, they launched into conversation related to his day rather than hers. Anytime he tried to probe for information about the Rikers case, she respond with a pithy answer and he took the hint. No SVU talk tonight.

They retrieved Noah from day two of them picking him up was not a normal occurrence, and the little boy reacted cheerfully when he saw both Ed and Olivia appear in the playroom. He sprinted to his mother first then reached over for Tucker and hugged him tightly around the neck. Ed held him as Olivia gathered his things, and they went on their way.

Dark clouds forming in the distance cut their after-dinner park session short, and Noah giggled as they rushed back to the apartment from DeWitt Clinton. When the first of what would be several thunder claps sounded, Noah bellowed a deep "Whoah!" Rain pelted the windows furiously when they entered the apartment.

After putting Noah to bed, Olivia returned to the living room and came up behind Ed, massaging his shoulders. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and murmured, "Mmmmmm." When she leaned down to kiss his forehead, the ends of her hair tickled his neck.

She dug her fingers even more deeply into his deltoids. "How am I doing?"

"Greeeeaaaat," he murmured.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night."

"What was that?"

"About being _with_ you."

Ed turned around, ending the massage, and motioned for her to sit down. "I didn't mean that I never want to talk about work, Liv." He concentrated on her with slightly gloomy eyes, concerned his words had been badly misconstrued. "Because I want us to talk about whatever we need to talk about…it's just, I kinda also want, ah…" He'd painted himself into a corner and there was nowhere to go other than the core truth of his feelings, " _Us_ to be first. And by that I mean, we're in this…even without the NYPD."

Olivia furrowed her brow as she processed his convoluted, guarded confession. Fortunately, she was no stranger to wading through nearly-incomprehensible language to get to a broader point.

"Ed," she reached for one of his hands and held it tightly with both of hers, "I'm getting there—"

"I'm not trying to rush you into a place you're not ready to be," he assured.

"I know, I don't feel that way. _Much_. For so long, my life has been SVU. Then it was SVU and Noah. Now it's SVU, Noah, and you. And I don't want anyone or anything to get shortchanged. And when cases like this come up, when there's a deeper connection, I can't get that balance as easily."

"I just wanna make sure you know…to me, _this_ , we're more than two cops finding common ground."

"It is to me, too."

"But I want you to talk to me," he implored almost pleadingly, took her face in his hands, and kissed her hard.

"There is something I've been wondering about," she purred with half-closed eyes as they came out of the kiss.

"What's that?"

"I hate to keep bringing this up."

" _Liv_."

"Okay," she created some space between them, "how did you know…about me seeing the shrink…the first time?"

The question momentarily knocked the wind out of Ed. The day he arrested her seemed to be an unshakable relationship bugaboo. "Uh, ah," he rubbed his chin, trying to recall names, "It kinda came up…inadvertently…during a JAG investigation? Think the accused's name was Pruitt?"

Dominic Pruitt. The man whose head she'd held a gun to eight or so years ago. Olivia closed her eyes. She'd been so close to pulling the trigger, ending an innocent man's life and ruining hers.

"Liv, you okay?"

 _Was that Tucker or Fin?_

Olivia felt beads of sweat begin to form on her brow and a hand on her forearm.

"Liv?"

She opened her eyes.

Ed.

 _Ed_.

She fell into him, sighing his name as she buried her head into his chest. He waited for sobs, but they didn't come on this particular night. Curling her head between his pecs, she simply took long, deep breaths, inhaling the starchy scent of his dry-cleaned shirt and retreating to the safe haven that was his solidity…the only security that seemed to match her own strength and overpower her most deeply hidden yet terribly burdensome vulnerabilities.

"I'm right here," he whispered into her hair, "I'm always gonna be right here. I need you to believe that, Liv."

"I believe you."

"Good." Content to keep here there a little while longer, Ed kissed her head and rubbed her back.

Olivia kissed his chest through the shirt.

She believed him.

Nevertheless, after months of seeing Ed Tucker's true colors, she wasn't convinced she actually deserved such a good man.

…..

Barba refused a ride home and instead hopped into a cab, still shaken but boasting a fiercely smug sneer on his face. Olivia shook her head as she watched the taxi speed away. Dodds was still on the courthouse steps, surveying the already-dispersed crowd with suspicious eyes. The corrections officers, their union rep, and Munson's attorney were gone. Barba described the man making the threats as just a face in the crowd, and there were many faces wearing every expression from glee to outright hostility. Whoever the guy was, they weren't bringing him in today.

"Lieutenant, how do you want to play this? Get a detail on Barba?" Dodds asked as Benson made her way back up the steps.

"Send a squad car to sit outside of his building," she directed, "He said no to the detail."

Dodds' eyes darkened, "He may not have a choice…but I'll get on it. You heading back to the precinct?"

Olivia checked her phone and, seeing Noah's face on her lock screen, suddenly jerked her head up at Dodds, terrified. Before he could ask what was wrong, Olivia had the phone to her ear.

" _Lucy_?"

Dodds realized her thought process and remained protectively at her side as she finished the call. Lucy's report flushed the alarm from her face. Olivia slid the phone back into her pocket, normal breathing returned, and she joined Dodds in his contemplative visual scan of the area.

"I'm going to call it a day," Olivia murmured. "Nice work on this, Dodds."

"Thanks, Lieutenant."

Olivia studied him and Mike expected her to add a comment about his impending departure. In her head, Olivia tossed around a few snide quips, but, deciding she'd already given him a hard enough time, shot him a friendly smile. "I'll see you Monday."

….

Saturday and Sunday mornings unfolded identically at the Benson apartment. Noah woke up first, Olivia dragged herself out of bed, and Ed followed thirty or so minutes later. The adults sipped coffee on the sofa while Noah snuggled between them, gradually waking up. Ed went for a second cup of coffee. Minutes later, drawers and doors opened and closed, pans clanged, and the sound of Ed rummaging through the refrigerator's sparse contents filled the air.

Olivia plopped Noah in his high chair and joined Ed in the kitchen. She offered to help for formality's sake; the proposition was met with a smirk, and she took a seat at the counter, watching him work.

The sight of Ed Tucker in t-shirt and sweatpants moving around in her kitchen still threw her for a loop…in a good way. For so long she'd known him as the obdurate, rigid, buttoned-up adversary, so seeing him unshaven, untucked, and uncombed hung on as a pleasant novelty.

Olivia watched him crack eggs and stir a small dish of pancake batter, admiring his concentration and attention to detail.

Ed either felt the scrutiny or was uncomfortable with the silence. He looked up from his mise en place with inquiring eyes. "Got bacon, eggs, toast…a pancake for the little guy…want anything else?"

"No," Olivia replied softly, her lips curling upwards, "Do _you_?"

Keeping his eyes on the batter, pretending to focus more intently than the task actually required, he shook his head, feeling like the question extended a little further than breakfast food, and he sort of did want something else.

"Nah, I'm good." He avoided the broader issue and poured the batter into one skillet and the eggs into another.

When the pancake was fully cooked, Ed carefully cut it into child-sized squares, placed it in the largest part of Noah's partitioned plate, drizzled syrup, added a few pieces of melon, and put the food in front of him.

He served Olivia next.

Finally, he scraped the remaining food onto his plate.

Ed ate quickly, obviously hungry, while Olivia took a few deliberate bites, partially lost in thought. This past week had been difficult, yet here they were, ensconced in normalcy, doing what thousands of other Manhattan families were doing at this very moment.

Startled by her sudden dive in his direction and by the subsequent aggressive kiss, Tucker dropped a forkful of eggs, spilling half the bite on the counter.

"Oops," Olivia said breezily. "Sorry."

Ed grinned at her, "Not a problem. What was _that_ for?"

"Nothing in particular."

"It felt like it was for something in particular," Ed replied, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, "I mean, the eggs are good, but…"

"I guess…it's just for being you."

Blushing, he leaned in for another kiss. "You look happy."

"I am."

"Yeah," he took another bite, still flushed and smirking, "my eggs…they have that effect on _everyone_."

….

The ring migrated from Tucker's apartment to Internal Affairs and spent most of its first day there in Ed's top desk drawer until it became too distracting and was relocated to a credenza cabinet where it could be locked and inconspicuous. Despite there being no shortage of rogue cops and civilian complaints to investigate, Tucker found himself passing long segments of time idly flipping through files, completely detached and disinterested in a job he formerly approached with zealous precision.

In talking through this latest case with Olivia, a troubling realization dawned on Ed Tucker. She agonized over systematic abuse and vowed, even after this case was over, to use her position to continue to put pressure on Rikers, even though the institution was not in Manhattan and technically out of her jurisdiction. Olivia worked tirelessly for victims, even when they were imperfect and a little rough around the edges. Lieutenant Benson and her squad took bad guys off the street and did their best to set their victims on a path towards healing.

Ed took a look around his sterile office.

What exactly did he _do_? Sure, he performed a necessary role; no citizen deserved to be "protected" by police officers who committed crimes or conducted themselves unethically, but nobody's life was better because Tucker did his job. Not that he needed or craved public commendation, but IAB officers weren't recipients of One PP's fawning nor were they the subjects of glowing media reports. Tucker's targets hated him, and, to anyone else, he was just another suit with a badge and gun.

"Tucker," Cole strode in without knocking, "ESU and HNT are on their way to Munson's house."

Ed blinked. "What?"

"Munson's barricaded himself in his house. SVU's on the scene."

Tucker's eyes widened. _Not her. Not again_.

"It's not Benson," Cole said, accurately reading his partner's thoughts, "She called it in."

"Get me a radio," Tucker grumbled, still rattled.

Draper procured the radio and he and Ed listened to the transmissions. Each time he heard Olivia's voice, Ed breathed a sigh of relief knowing she was outside; he needed constant assurance she was safe. Other than that, the situation sounded dire. Munson refused to talk, Mike Dodds was apparently being held at gunpoint along with Munson's wife, all exterior doors to the residence were locked, and there was no opening for the pole cameras. Given the two high profile hostages, no NYPD resource had been spared, but a tactical entrance seemed unavoidable.

Tucker muttered orders and strategy under his breath as he listened, not caring that Draper was present and overhearing everything.

Then, after a series of mundane communications, the impasse broke.

"Shots fired! Shots fired!"

"Officer down! Ten-thirteen!" Olivia called in frantically.

Tucker and Draper, both assuming the _officer down_ was Mike Dodds, stared at each other with alarm as they heard the demands for EMTs and listened intently for real-time updates. Wound to the abdomen. Blood loss. Stabilized. Suspect in custody. Second hostage uninjured.

Lincoln hospital.

"Go," Draper said graciously, "We'll cover for you here."

…

Two unsuspecting colleagues thwarted Tucker's quick exit from IAB and a wreck clogged uptown traffic, so his arrival at the hospital was later than he'd anticipated. Olivia responded to his _I'm on my way_ text with a brief update. At that point Mike had just been wheeled into surgery, but that had been almost an hour ago.

When he found her, the frantic, distressed look on her face and her damp eyes made him think Mike Dodds was either gravely injured or already gone.

"Liv," he reached out for her and immediately noticed how tense she was, "I got here as quick as I could. He still in surgery?"

"He's alive."

Ed tried to hold her hand, but they were balled into tight fists. He led her by the arm to the adjacent hallway where they could talk semi-privately. "We'll take that. You alright?" Ed had never seen her so upset; she looked like she could break down at any second.

She managed to choke out an explanation through hitched breaths. "I was walking…Munson's kids out to the car, and I left Dodds in there. I had a feeling—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't do that, there's a hundred ways that coulda gone."

"I shoulda let Dodds walk the kids out to the car."

Her hands once again clenched into impenetrable fists, so Ed held her wrists while still trying to work his fingers into her palms. " _Hey_. Lookit me." She lifted her head. Tears welled in her eyes and her lips were tightly pursed as she strained to keep the sobs at bay. Tucker had absolutely no idea what to say and his intuition told him she would remain inconsolable regardless of what he said. "You alright? You need anything? Something to eat? Maybe a coffee?"

"Just be here."

Despite the tragic circumstances, the _just be here_ buoyed his spirits. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Just as Ed was about to wrap her in a tight embrace, Chief Dodds informed them that Alice was on her way and would land at LaGuardia. Tucker left briefly to arrange for aviation to pick her up and then returned to Olivia's side. She refused to sit down and instead paced the room, wringing her hands, and torturing herself by replaying the afternoon's sequence of events. As the light in the room dimmed, signaling the onset of evening, she stepped into the hallway and checked in with Lucy. Ed trailed her and his heart sank as she managed to bravely say a few loving words to Noah with very little waver in her voice. As soon as she said goodbye to Lucy though, her shoulders trembled and she turned to Ed.

"I shouldn't have left him in there."

This time, Ed hugged her rigid body as she rambled the same sentiments over and over. "I didn't search him. I should've searched him. His wife said—"

" _Liv_ ," Ed whispered into her ear, "Don't do this. C'mon. Come sit with me."

She broke away from him and shook her head, unable to even croak out a "no."

"At least have something to drink. You haven't had anything. C'mon." He eyed her closely as she drank a cup of water and subsequently crushed the Styrofoam container. Seconds before he suggested they go outside for some air, the doctor arrived with good news.

Mike survived the surgery and was recovering in the ICU.

Tucker vigorously rubbed Olivia's back as she again wrung her hands, only this time, it was out of relief rather than self-loathing and worry. Deputy Inspector O'Brien walked off, leaving them alone.

"C'mon, Liv. Come sit." He led her to the hard sofa and took a seat on the stiff cushions. She sat beside him, fidgeting, unable to get comfortable.

"Ed, it's ok if you need to go."

"I told you…I'm not goin' anywhere."

"But—"

"Liv," Ed turned and faced her, grabbing for her hands, this time able to actually hold them, "I'm here. I want to be here. We'll leave together. Whenever you want." He brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, "The doc said he'd be out for a while. Wanna try to sleep a little? At least close your eyes for a few minutes?"

Olivia managed a faint smile. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep here."

"Just rest your eyes. Try to relax. I'll let you know if there's any news."

Her eyes glistened again and he put a hand on her back, drawing her close, and kissed her forehead before leaning against the board-like backrest. Seconds later, he felt her head on his shoulder. Peering down, he saw her eyes flutter closed and, eventually, she inched closer so her body was flush with his. Tucker more than willingly shouldered the increased pressure as she surrendered to fatigue and briefly touched his head to hers. Even as he sorted through his missed emails and texts, he kept a protective peripheral eye on her.

….

Faint rays of sunlight streamed into the waiting room, signaling dawn was upon them. All around the waiting room, officers slept, their bodies contorted at unnatural and uncomfortable angles, and there was absolutely no noise. This particular area was sheltered from patient rooms and exterior doors, so other than the hum of the water cooler, all was silent.

Olivia stirred only once in the short time she'd been asleep. Mumbling incoherently, she sat up, turned her neck from side to side, and then planted her head back on Tucker's shoulder. He gently caressed her head and then occupied himself with his phone in order to stay awake since he'd promised to wake her if something urgent arose.

Reacting to the intensifying sunlight, one of the snoozing officers covered his head with his jacket, annoyed with the intrusion. Voices and footsteps in the corridor grew louder and closer, but Tucker didn't bother trying to make sense of the conversation until he saw Carisi who was followed closely by Rollins.

Tucker glanced fleetingly at the young detective and then returned his focus to his phone, but neither one of Olivia's detectives showed signs of leaving. He looked up again, still not speaking, trying to wait until the absolute last second to wake Olivia.

"Captain." Carisi's whisper was so low and throaty it was nearly inaudible. "Um, uh, we really need to let the Lieutenant know about somethin. It's about Barba."

Tucker turned so he was almost cradling Olivia. Leaving the phone on the opposite cushion, he wedged one arm between her back and the rear cushion and, with the other, he lightly brushed her cheek. "Liv?"

Carisi watched the tender scene until Rollins forced a cough and summoned him into the corridor.

"Liv?"

"Yeah?" She answered with her eyes still closed but then jolted upwards, suddenly cognizant of the circumstances. "What happened?"

"Carisi and Rollins need ya."

His gravelly, soothing tone reassured her that whatever her detectives needed, it was not something to do with Dodds. Then, she remembered Barba.

"Okay."

"I'll get you a coffee."

She sat with her elbows on her knees, trying to fully emerge into consciousness, and Tucker returned with the coffee.

"It's probably been there a while, want me to get you something better?"

"Ed, you really can go."

"I'm not trying to get outta here. I told you. We're leaving together."

Conceding his kindness, she smiled weakly at him, "The coffee's fine. Thank you."

"Lemme know if you need anything else."

She stood up and pressed their foreheads together.

"Thank you," she whispered, her lips just barely grazing his.

"Go," he whispered. "I'll be right here."

….

Olivia made her way back to the waiting room after the doctors took Mike for the CT scan. The bright late-morning light was now streaming through the windows, and it shone on Tucker who had dozed off but looked far from cozy. She stepped into the room and that was enough to rouse him. He immediately saw the alarm in her visage and the defeat in her body language.

"What happened?" He propelled himself from the sofa and rushed over to her.

"We don't know…his language seemed off, they took him to neurology."

"Where's Bill?"

"With Alice…and trying to get a hold of Mike's mother again, and, I think, his brother, too." Olivia collapsed on the sofa and buried her head in her hands.

Ed massaged her shoulders. "How 'bout a coffee?"

"Okay," she replied weakly.

He returned quickly, handed her a cup, and took a seat beside her. "How badly was he slurring his words?"

"It was more like he wasn't making sense."

Tucker opened his mouth to ask another question, but he was interrupted by Chief Dodds who told them Alice was at the deli and was taking requests. Both Olivia and Ed declined and listened as the Chief gushed over Mike's fiancée and expressed amazement that Mike's brother had actually followed through and was returning to New York from Mexico City. His optimism bothered Olivia and flabbergasted Ed who offered an obligatory smile but knew the chief's jauntiness was a mere false front.

"Mr. Dodds?"

Doctor Rosenthal summoned the chief, leaving Ed and Olivia to themselves. Tucker sat down, but Olivia resumed nervous pacing. Judging by the look on the doctor's face, whatever news he had to deliver was not promising.

Exhausted, Ed remained silent and stared blankly ahead, waiting for the bad news. Ever the pragmatist, he'd sensed Mike's prognosis was grim all along, but he feigned a hopeful demeanor for Olivia and for the Chief, too. Nobody deserved to lose a child.

"Lieutenant Benson?"

Olivia froze and jerked her head in the direction of the voice. It belonged to a familiar nurse.

"Yes?"

"Chief Dodds wants to see you."

Olivia shot Ed an agonized look and followed the nurse down the hallway and through the double doors to Mike's room.

…..

Lieutenant Benson took Mike's lifeless hand, squeezed her eyes closed, and said a silent goodbye to her second-in-command. Before turning his hand back over to Alice, she added an apology. Then, burdened by guilt and grief, she left the room, hearing the reemerging sobs of the Chief and of Alice while trying to swallow her own. Steadying herself against a wall, she took in a few deep breaths and ran her index fingers under her eyes, mopping the residue of earlier tears. Satisfied she'd sufficiently pulled herself together, she marched towards the waiting room.

She thought she'd be able to deliver the news with the grace and the stoicism characteristic of a steadfast, assured leader, but their expectant, anxious faces immediately ate away at any forged resiliency. She met eyes with Rollins first, and Amanda immediately walked away. She needed no verbal confirmation. Fin's face fell. Carisi's jaw dropped. For Ed, it seemed like it took him an eternity to get to her.

Olivia came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, succumbing to sensory overload.

Chief Dodds' reluctant breakdown.

Alice's tear-stained face.

Mike's slurred and incomprehensible final words.

The heavy silence and the glaring whiteness of the hall closed in on her, compressing her body, the stifled emotions could no longer be held inside and she shuddered while at the same time feeling nothing at all—an officer lost his life under Lieutenant Benson's watch, she felt the void immediately, and it upended her world.

She fell into Ed's arms, and he led her to a nearby gurney where she collapsed and softly wept as he held her. Tears soaked through his shirt and dampened his skin; he cradled her tightly for a long time, until the trembling abated and her limp body slumped in his arms.

She felt nothing—a hollowed out shell of her former self.

At some point she got into a sedan and back to her apartment.

But she didn't remember how.

…

Olivia stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her hair for what seemed like the tenth or eleventh time. The last time she'd worn the cap, her hair had been much shorter.

Ed answered the door when Lucy arrived and they greeted one another with nods and polite but doleful smiles; Lucy had been so deeply integrated into Olivia's life that Dodds' death hit her almost as hard as it had bombarded those who knew him best.

"You look nice, Captain." She delivered the words without emotion, merely to occupy the silence.

"Yeah, thanks. Lemme go get Liv."

He sauntered into the bedroom and found her there, in front of the mirror, fully dressed except for the cap, white gloves sticking out of her jacket pocket, and her eyes, as they had been for the past couple of days, glistened with unshed tears.

"Lucy's here," he said gently. "Ready?"

Olivia tried to twist and contort the hat. "I hate wearing this thing," she muttered, exasperated, "It's for _men_. It never fits right. It—"

Ed quietly took the cap from her, massaged it a little, and fitted it on her head, tucking some brown strands underneath. "There." He rested his hand on her cheek and repeated, "There."

She clasped her hand over his. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

…

"To Dodds!"

Ed took Olivia's spot at the bar as she walked off to talk to the Chief. He assumed Rollins and Fin would cocoon themselves in their own conversation, but they both looked at Tucker as if they expected him to say something. Ed glanced back at Olivia who had just taken a seat across from the NYPD's only remaining Dodds.

Slightly discomfited, Tucker reverted to cop mode, "Any leads on the guy who threatened Barba?"

"Yeah," Fin replied, "We think we got 'em."

Rollins closely scrutinized Ed, "How is she? Really?"

Tucker shrugged. "I think like the rest of us. Shell shocked."

Rollins nodded, knowing he was holding back information but, at the same time, understanding why he was doing it. "She should take some time."

"That's up to her."

Rollins nodded at the bartender for another round and drank the shot in one gulp. "You know, Captain, I wouldn't want to work for anyone else."

Tucker gazed lovingly over at Benson. He assumed she wouldn't notice, but just as he was diverting his eyes, she looked up, locked into his stare, and raised her glass.

He returned the gesture while replying to Rollins. "I don't blame ya," he said, keeping his eyes locked on Olivia. "I really don't blame ya."

….

It was Thursday morning before Olivia realized Ed hadn't been to work in at least two or three days. Upon leaving the hospital, he took her home and she spent the rest of the day and night in a fog, surfacing only to spend some cuddle time with Noah but otherwise wasting away hours on the couch, staring off into space and wishing she could re-do the past forty-eight hours.

"Isn't IAB wondering where you are?"

Happy there was some light-heartedness in her voice, Tucker looked up from the newspaper with a smile, "Actually…they're not."

Olivia grabbed his forearm, " _Ed_ , seriously."

"I took the rest of the week off," He said casually, "I have a million vacation days."

"And you're spending them on me."

"And _me_. And Noah."

Olivia blinked. With Ed around, she'd completely forgotten about childcare. "Where's Lucy?"

"I told her to take the week off, too. That I'd be here."

Welcoming the solace of his presence, she whispered a nearly inaudible "thank you."

"My pleasure."

"But I really need to go in for a few hours today."

"No ya don't."

"Yes," she responded firmly, "I _do_. I haven't seen any of my squad since the funeral. I need to check in. Especially with this thing with Barba."

Tucker knew all protests would be met with smart rebuttals, so he didn't argue. "Okay. Noah and I'll hang out."

At the sound of his name, Noah looked up from his toys and beamed at Ed.

Olivia stood up, stretched, and bent down for a kiss. "I'm going to shower."

"The men will be right here."

…..

Olivia listened to Carisi and Rollins fill her in on the Heredio arrest, but everyone in the room, including the Lieutenant herself, knew the whole thing was only done for the sake of procedure. Benson wasn't listening, and Rollins and Carisi were so robotic in their delivery that they would later wonder what exactly it was they'd relayed to their boss.

On her way to the elevators, something caught Olivia's eye, causing her to cringe.

 _Good Luck Sgt. Dodds_.

She retreated back to her office.

Ed answered her call on the third ring.

"Hey."

She heard street noise in the background, "What are you doing?"

"Running a few errands," he replied, "On your way home?"

"Not exactly."

"Take your time. We're gonna hit the park in a little bit."

…..

 _It was Dodds' time. It wasn't yours._

Olivia stopped at home before meeting Ed and Noah at the park. She needed a good cry and she needed to be by herself for this one. Sessions with Lindstrom typically left her either with a clear head or an even more convoluted psyche, and today, the end result induced the latter.

What she really wanted to know was why, each time her life seemed to be in order and she experienced a modicum of happiness, _why_ , _inevitably_ , the fates vindictively constructed yet another obstacle?

Still sniffling, she made her way to the bathroom to wash her face, but a framed photograph stopped her. It was the one of her and Noah on the carousel. Noah smiled gleefully, clutching the pole, his head cocked a little to the side. Behind him and off to the side, she beamed for the camera as well.

Dabbing at her eyes with a damp tissue, she made her way to the bathroom and scrutinized herself in the mirror.

An odd silence engulfed the apartment.

She wanted Noah.

She also wanted Ed.

So, she hurried to make herself presentable and rushed off to the park.

 _You are lucky to be alive._

 _Noah is lucky that you are._

 _That is not why you left that house._

She took a deep breath before exiting her building.

 _It was Dodds' time._

 _It wasn't yours._

….

Tucker and Noah were leaving the playground when Olivia texted that she was on her way, so they waited for her outside the park's gates. Ed had Noah on his shoulders, but the little boy squirmed when he saw his mother and Ed put him down.

"Hey, sweet boy!" She exclaimed, hoisting him into the air, "Mommy's so happy you see you!" Noah tolerated her tight hug for several seconds, nestling his head into the crook of her neck.

Olivia kissed him and turned her attention to Ed. "Hi," she said breathlessly, suddenly feeling shy and maybe a bit exposed given the raw emotion she'd shown him in the past few days.

Ed took everything in stride. "Hi there. We missed ya. Wanna walk a bit?"

"Yeah. Let's do that."

Ed put Noah back on his shoulders and they walked along the Hudson River path for a while in silence-people watching, contemplating next moves, wondering how this latest blow affected their relationship.

It was Noah who broke the silence. Spotting an ice cream vendor, he pointed and bounced and finally shouted his request for a sweet treat. Ed took him over to the stand, and they sat on a bench and tag-teamed his navigation of the oversized ice cream sandwich.

After he'd had enough, they each grabbed a toddler hand and led him back to the greenway.

"Thanks for watching him today," Olivia said, trying to claw herself out of her melancholy.

"My pleasure," he replied, "You have an okay day?"

"Yeah…this thing with Barba…doesn't seem to be connected to the COs…so Carisi and Rollins are working on that."

"Got a detail on him?"

"Yep…twenty-four seven."

"Gotta love that," he muttered sarcastically.

She forced an equally snide laugh. " _Right_."

 _It was Dodds' time. It wasn't yours._

"Then," Olivia continued, "I went to see Lindstrom."

"How'd that go?"

"It went," she responded evasively, "It's just going to take some time."

"Yeah."

"He said the same thing you said…basically."

"What's that?"

"That I couldn't control what happened there."

"Nobody could have, Liv. Not even you."

"I just feel… _so_ exhausted."

"Probably better than numb."

"Yeah. I feel that too."

"I don't know how you're still standing. After the last few days? The whole year actually."

"Well, _lucky_ , I have this little guy to wake me up at six a.m."

A Great Dane came into view and Noah cooed, "Big dog!"

"Yeah, lookit!" They paused and watched the large breed pass with its owners.

"A doggie, that's right! A doggie!" Olivia encouraged, brushing his hair back.

They continued their stroll. It bothered Ed that Olivia still seemed to be deflecting any attempts to get her to open up about her pain, but, then again, maybe it was the wrong place for him to broach the topic. He appreciated and understood how important it was that she see her shrink, but he wanted her to feel comfortable talking to him as well.

Feeling a tad hypocritical, he remembered there was something he'd been keeping from her.

"I put transfer papers in today."

Filing the papers had been number one on his list of things to do during his time off. Since Olivia had only known him as IAB, he wasn't surprised at her astonishment. He was telling the truth about the funeral's effect on his decision; it was there he realized he wanted to go back to hostage negotiation, but his dissatisfaction with his role at Internal Affairs had been brewing for a while.

Olivia subconsciously rubbed her bare neck. _He was leaving IAB?_ She didn't completely buy the whole funeral story. Surely, another reason lingered in the background, but she opted not to press the issue further. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but recognize that Ed leaving IAB obliterated a glaring obstacle in their effort to coexist as cops and lovers.

"You know, I never did ask you how you ended up in IAB to begin with."

"It's a long story." He almost left it at that and she probably would've let it go, but he stopped their stride and delved slightly deeper into his own backstory. "Actually, no it's not. After my ex and I…she, uh…I just thought I could never trust anybody again."

Trust.

Tucker had always been all about trust. Remorse flickered within Olivia—she'd been so consumed with confronting her own demons she never thought to inquire about his.

"So you joined IAB to confirm that belief."

"Turns out I was wrong," Ed glanced down at Noah and inched closer to her, "Olivia Margaret Benson, I trust you. And this little guy." He knelt down to tickle Noah and gazed up at her sunlit face, realizing he was on bended knee, and, thinking this could possibly be the right moment, wished he had the ring. Lacking the bauble, he proceeded with plan B.

"We have a good thing goin' here, the three of us."

 _One day, I'm marrying this woman._

"Yeah, we do," she agreed softly, her face relaxed and as content as he'd ever seen it.

" _So_."

" _So_."

He stood up, holding both her hands and Noah's. "Might be nice to get away for a while. How do you feel about Paris?"

"Paris?" She repeated, intrigued, a smile forming on her face.

"Yeah," he replied with a shy shrug.

"I like it." She bit her lip and leaned in for a kiss. When she broke away, he grinned at her, elated to witness genuine cheer after the hellish week.

They walked on, making tentative, preliminary travel plans, until a more pressing issue presented itself.

Noah suddenly yelped and whimpered.

"What is it?" Olivia asked, looking down.

Ed was already pinching a large insect from his sweater. "There, bud. All gone," he said, plucking it from his shirt.

"C'mon," Olivia said, "Let's go."

Instantly recovered from the intrusion, Noah exclaimed, "Swing me!"

Olivia patted his head. "Ok, ready? One, two, three!"

They launched Noah into the air, eliciting giggles, and a breathless "again" as soon as his feet hit the ground.

….

In bed late that night, Olivia draped herself across Ed's chest. After prolonged silence, he assumed she'd fallen asleep but continued methodically stroking her back, content to pass the entire night in his current position if need be. He wanted her to rest, to sleep, and if he had to sleep propped at a forty-five degree angle, so be it.

"Did you know I've always wanted to go to Paris?" The question startled him only because he thought he was the only one in the apartment still conscious.

"No, I didn't."

"Oh." He felt her lips move against his bare chest and the sensation sent pleasant shivers up and down his spine. "I thought maybe I'd mentioned it before."

"Nope."

"Why Paris?"

" _I've_ always wanted to go. And now I want to see it with you and Noah."

"Noah, too?"

"I can't imagine leaving him here."

She planted a kiss on one of his pecs. "You're such a good man." She felt him shake with what she assumed was humble laughter. "Seriously, Ed. Earlier today, you said you didn't know how I was still standing…"

"It's amazing you still are."

"But you left something out."

"What's that?"

"This _whole year_ ," she peeled herself away from him so she could see his face and those irresistible blue eyes, "has been… _challenging_."

"To say the least."

"But every time something came up…every awful thing…you've been right there."

"Sometimes I wasn't. Sometimes I felt like I should stay away."

"Yeah…I…um…"

"You don't have to explain anything, Liv."

"I'm—"

"And you _don't_ have to apologize."

She cupped his face lovingly, "There were a few times…when I thought I was better off alone, working through things by myself…"

"And now?"

Everything came to a standstill while she considered the question. Ed believed their entire existence as a couple hinged on her response.

"I want you here with me. Even when it's ugly. _Especially_ when it's ugly. If…that's not too much for you?"

Overjoyed and smirking, he tilted his head into her hand, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"It just seems like…there's so much…damage. So much… _work_."

"Nah," he rasped, taking her hand from his face and squeezing it between both of his, "I _want_ us to work, Liv. I kinda… _need_ this to work. Because I love you. And…my life…it's not just about me anymore. It's about you and Noah, too, and…that includes _everything_ …even the damage."

Tears escaped from her eyes and he wiped them away with his thumbs. "And maybe…someday…all the good things…everything in front of us… _like Paris_ …will just kinda gloss over the dents and the dings…yours _and mine_."

Olivia couldn't verbalize a coherent thought. As she and Tucker cautiously pursued their relationship, he'd floored her dozens of times with eloquence and kindness and general gallantry, but this? The heartfelt confession temporarily arrested her from all emotions, save for the intense, palpable love accumulating right there in the space between them…and it wasn't ephemeral.

"I'm here as long as you want me to be, Liv." He reached over to turn off the lamp on his side of the bed, leaving only the muted gray light of the iPad to illuminate the room. He moved some pillows to the side so he could be completely horizontal, and Olivia resumed her previous position, using his chest as a pillow.

"For you and for Noah," he added softly, leaving no doubt that his intentions wholeheartedly included her son.

She closed her eyes, ensconced in the stability and security that had unexpectedly arrived in the form of Ed Tucker and concentrated on the feel of his skin against her cheek and his hand caressing her back. His heartbeat thudded in her ear. She rode the undulations of his breathing and tried to temporarily push the horror of the past few days out of her mind, knowing full well Dodds' death would haunt her indefinitely.

"I'm going in tomorrow," she mumbled. "I have to be there."

"I get it," he said, rubbing her back more vigorously, and, trying to lighten the mood, added, "I'll be making travel plans."

He felt her lips curl into a smile, "I can't wait…thanks for understanding."

"Just…remember…take care of _yourself_ , too."

"I often forget that part."

"I'll remind you."

She lifted her head, "You will, won't you?"

"Yes I will. From now on. I'm not leaving."

"I wouldn't blame you if you did."

He kissed her forehead. "Not gonna happen. I'm taking you to Paris, and when we get back, we'll take it one day at a time."

"Sounds easy."

"It may not be easy all the time, Liv, but that's not the point."

"What _is_ the point?"

"That the three of us are together. I want to be with you."

"Me too," she murmured.

 _Me too_. Maybe, after saying it countless ways, he had finally convinced her that it was safe to think of them as an enduring entity.

"Good," he said as if he were declaring a case closed, "Wanna try to get some sleep?"

She took a deep breath and settled more deeply into his chest, "Yeah. But, you must be uncomfortable. I'll—"

"Nah," he interjected before she offered to move and wrapped both arms securely around her. "I'm always comfortable like this."

For the final time that evening, he pressed his lips to her head and insistently spoke into her hair. "Stay right here."

No longer willing to object, she replanted her head between his pecs and slung an arm across his toned midsection.

Ed readjusted his grip, holding her even more tightly, and repeated the previous phrase in his familiar low-toned rasp.

"Stay right here."

….

 _ **#Tuckson**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Truce: Alternate Ending/Inspired by recently released photographs.**

"Thank you for watching Noah today."

Hearing his name, Noah looked up at his mother, smiled, and turned back to the water. The three of them had momentarily stopped walking when Noah spotted something interesting in the water below. After a few minutes of allowing him to peer through the slats in the guardrail, Ed and Olivia each took a hand and continued ambling along the path.

"You're welcome," Ed replied, "But…no thanks required, Liv. You know that right?"

Olivia only smiled and angled her face against the wind to get a few stray locks of hair out of her eyes.

In the past few weeks she, Ed, and Noah had grown exceptionally close. When Olivia was home, Ed was usually there and while he hadn't officially moved in, they were basically living together. Still, Olivia felt awkward asking him to take on Noah duties, preferring instead for Lucy to keep her regular schedule and not inconvenience Ed. At the same time, Ed did and said everything he could to convince Olivia she _wasn't_ inconveniencing him without pressuring her too much. Their relationship had seesawed back and forth until recently, and now that they'd found a comfortable groove, he didn't want to knock them off the rails.

"How'd, uh, how'd it go today?" He asked the question hesitantly. Olivia seeing Dr. Lindstrom was certainly not a secret, but Olivia never discussed the sessions. Nevertheless, Ed sensed there was something different about this time so he decided to roll the dice and ask in a way that gave Olivia the option of giving him either a vague or a specific response.

"It's going to take a while," Olivia replied, "I think I went there expecting to leave with resolutions and some sense of closure, but I don't feel any of that. I just feel so… _exhausted_."

"Probably better than numb."

"I feel that, too."

Ed replayed the year in his head—his girlfriend had weathered a lifetime of storms in a few months, but their relationship endured and even strengthened through the hostage standoff, the church scandal, and, now the death of Mike Dodds.

"I'm surprised you're still standing. After the past few days? The whole year actually." He looked over at her with concern.

Olivia deflected the remark. "Well, _lucky_ , I have this little guy to wake me up at six a.m."

Two people walking a Great Dane passed them. Noah smiled and exclaimed, "Big dog!"

Ed crouched a bit. "Lookit!"

"That's right! A doggie!" Olivia ran her fingers through her son's hair.

As Tucker straightened into a standing position, he felt the edges of the box in his pocket and nerves threatened to overcome him before he launched into the prelude to the proposal. He started with the least daunting of his rehearsed lines.

"I put in transfer papers today. Hostage negotiation has an opening."

"You're leaving IAB? After all this time, that's…"

"Like letting go of a rope." He'd successfully warded off the first round of nerves and words were coming easier, "At the funeral? I realized I can't spend the rest of my life wondering whether or not a cop is lying to me."

 _Also, if the day goes as planned, I want to make sure to eliminate any future conflicts of interest._

Obviously startled by the news, Olivia said, "You know, I never did ask you how you ended up in IAB to begin with."

"It's a long story."

 _Tucker, you're about to ask her to marry you. You gotta give her more explanation that that._

"Actually, no it's not. After my ex and I, she…I thought I could never trust anybody again."

Olivia understood. "So you joined IAB to confirm that belief."

"I guess I did."

They continued their stroll for a while. Noah wiggled out of their grasp and skipped a few steps ahead, seemingly playing his own little game jumping over the cracks in the concrete. Ed took Olivia's hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, buoyed when she returned his tight grip. They walked along in silence until the path veered to the right and the Statue of Liberty was in view.

Ed called out to Noah, "Hey bud, over here. This is the spot we talked about. Remember?" Noah ran over and tugged at Ed's jacket pocket. "Hang on, pal. Not quite yet." A flame burned in Ed's chest and throat. He glanced at Olivia. Curiosity flooded her eyes as they darted back and forth between Noah and Ed, but she followed without a word as Ed led the way to the area of the path that jutted out a little farther over the river.

The relative lack of other pedestrians gave Ed a little more confidence. He'd tossed around various locations—her apartment, his apartment, Central Park—but this was right. He faced her and held her wrists. "I was wrong," he said softly and took a quick breath, "about not being able to trust anyone again. Because, I trust _you_ ," he knelt down and tickled Noah who giggled in response, "and this little guy."

He remained on one knee and gazed up at her soulfully. Olivia bit her lip and tucked a section of her hair behind an ear. Blood rushed to her face as she slowly came to realize what was happening. Still, she let Ed talk without interruption.

"I trust us. The three of us. We have," his voice was starting to tremble now and he took another, steadying breath, "A good thing goin' and, it should keep going. Forever. So… _God_ , there's so much I want to say right now." He diverted his gaze for a second and furrowed his brow.

"You're doing great," Olivia murmured sweetly. Anticipating what was next, she idly scratched her neck again.

Ed felt Noah's hand on his knee and the contact provided clarity. After another breath he collected himself. "Okay, bud, let's…let's show Mommy."

Noah dug into Ed's jacket pocket and, with assistance, produced the box. He tried to pry it open and, with Ed's help, revealed the ring—a gigantic diamond solitaire, simple, classy, and elegant.

"Liv, I love you," He said as he held out the box, "And…I don't want another day to go by without you knowing and believing that. _Trusting_ that."

"This for you, Mommy," Noah interjected, gesturing at the ring with his palm facing upward. "It from Ed."

"Good job, bud," Ed whispered to Noah before turning his attention back to Olivia, "I better, ah, I better get to the point. We have so much uncertainty in our lives, Liv. But you, Noah, _us_ …this is right. And, in my mind, it needs to be permanent. So…Olivia Margaret Benson, will you marry me?"

Olivia held her hand over her heart, clutching the material of her sweater. Ed's expression exuded a hopeful confidence and Noah grinned at her, barely able to contain himself. He'd obviously been consulted beforehand and had a good understanding of what was going on. Her head was spinning and she quickly played her own mental slideshow of the past year—every time things got tough, every time she tried to push him away, Ed Tucker never wavered in his devotion to her and her son. Ed down on one knee before her, _proposing marriage,_ was an unexpected but fitting culmination _._ Suddenly, she agreed with him. This was right. This should be permanent. And she hadn't even realized she wanted it until now.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, breaking into a wide grin. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Ed resisted the urge to immediately kiss her and instead addressed Noah. "She said yes bud, let's get it outta here." He reached for Olivia's hand, and he and Noah slid the ring on her finger.

Ring on, she clasped his hand, helped him up, and they fell into a deep, celebratory kiss. Noah waited patiently with one arm around each of their legs.

"Wanna…wanna have a late lunch?" Ed rasped, refusing to completely break away from her. He smiled shyly, knowing the question was almost ridiculously mundane compared to the last one he'd posed.

She returned the grin. "Yeah. Yeah I do."

They walked off in the direction of one of their favorite casual dining spots, swinging Noah between them.

…

" _God_ ," Olivia murmured against Ed's bare chest, "Special occasion tonight, Captain?"

Still trying to breathe normally, Ed tilted his head and smirked down at her. He hadn't quite summoned the energy to do much else. One arm was splayed out to the side and the other was draped lazily across her back.

"Somethin' like that." He saw Olivia using her thumb to spin her ring around and around. "Fit okay?"

"It does."

"Like it?"

"I love it."

"I was down to two…then I had Noah make the final pick."

"You did?" Tears welled in her eyes for what seemed like the tenth time that day. "I can't believe he didn't say anything."

"We had a talk, man-to-man, although," Ed chuckled a bit, "I can't believe he didn't say anything either. Good boy."

"Yeah, he is."

Nervous again, Ed asked shakily, "How long…how long ya wanna wait before we get married?"

"Not long," Olivia replied. "I don't see the point in waiting." A day ago, if someone would've told her she was about to be engaged, she wouldn't have believed it, but now she was all in and ready to move forward.

"You want a wedding?"

"Maybe something small?"

"Whatever you want." Olivia snuggled more deeply into his chest and he ran his fingers up and down her spine. "And, how about…after…or before…we get away for a while? How do you feel about Paris?"

Olivia sat up and leaned in for a kiss. " _Paris_? I like it." He cupped the back of her head, keeping her close. "I've always wanted to go there," she said, her lips still touching his.

Through a smirk he replied, "Good. I wanna know everything you've always wanted to do. And I'll make it happen, Liv. I promise." He saw her tearing up again and ran a finger under each of her eyelids. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've…I've never been happier. And that seems kind of wrong. _Considering_."

He coaxed her back down to his chest and wrapped both arms around her. "There is no _considering_ ," he said softly but firmly, "And there is no _wrong_. You deserve this happiness, Liv. All of it. And whatever I have to do to prove that to you, I'll do it. Our jobs…there's always gonna be some ugly parts…but I'm not leaving. I'm _here_. For you. For Noah. Always."

"I'm…it's going to take some time for me to get used to that reality."

"I know."

"But I will."

He kissed the top of her head.

"Of course you will."

…..

 **Barring any more pics, that's the END of Truce.**

 **#Tuckson**

 **#EndGame**


End file.
